


Saudade

by kayecho



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Amnesia, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Homelessness, M/M, Middle Aged Chocobros, Post-Endgame, References to Depression, Ten Years Later, Toppy Noctis, Vague Episode Ignis References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-24 05:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayecho/pseuds/kayecho
Summary: After the Starscourge is purged from the world, the memory of Noctis and Luna is wiped from existence. While his friends have moved on, gotten married, started families, Ignis is plagued with the feeling that something important, something crucial is missing from his life but he has no idea who or what it could possibly be.





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> sau·da·de  
> /souˈdädə/  
> noun  
> a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia that is supposedly characteristic of the Portuguese or Brazilian temperament.

Nearly ten years had passed since light had returned to the world, and as people are ought to do, they endured, they rebuilt and they moved on. The story of the two Eos bound gods sacrificing themselves to purge the world of the Starscourge was repeated daily, with some of those claiming that they had witnessed the gods themselves: a god shrouded in darkness and a goddess bathed with light. No one had. The reality from those who had stood at the steps of the citadel the day the sun rose again after ten years, as they defended what remained of their capital city from the hoards of daemons, was that they witnessed a great column of light, a shatter of blue particles, that they heard the deafening cry of a daemon echoing in the darkness and then the sun rose, cresting over the horizon, spilling over the land of Lucis.

A small child hurried forward down the path through a small park in the city of Insomnia, calling back for his uncle to hurry. The child gave Ignis a reason to live, having spent a year in darkness, feeling as though he suddenly had no place or purpose. He had felt empty and lost while the rest of the world marched on around him. The child had dark hair, freckles, glasses and seemingly boundless energy as Ignis called out to him to slow down. Ignis was blessed to be able to see that much, to make out the child's blurry form as he followed, keeping a reasonable pace. His sight was returning slowly, a gift from the gods. 

Ignis watched the boy skip off the path, cutting through the grass to find the perfect spot to settle down for their picnic lunch. He ran off a far enough distance that his blurry form blended into the scenery, and then there was a yelp.

"Helian!" Ignis called out for the boy as he took off into a run, as the blur of colors started to focus in on the boy. He saw him taking several steps away from a dark figure, a hand to his face. Ignis reflexively put himself between the boy and the stranger, dropping down to his knees to get a good look at him.

At this distance he could make out Helian's features, the freckles on his pale cheeks, his small nose and mahogany colored eyes. Ignis cupped his face with his hands. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"M'okay, I just fell a little bit." The boy rubbed his nose, turning it red.

"I'm sorry. I bumped into him. I wasn't looking where I was going." The dark figure spoke in a low, hesitant voice. It was slightly rough, but with an air of familiarity that seemed to reach into Ignis's chest, grab his lungs and squeeze. Ignis hugged the boy to his chest, breathing a sigh of relief once he had completed his assessment, verifying that he had no injuries, before he turned to look up at the stranger behind him. 

Ignis could not quite make out his features. He saw a man clad in black, with black hair and pale skin. He frowned. "You need to be more careful," he scolded.

"I know. I'm sorry. I was... distracted. I saw something I hadn't seen in such a long time..." The man sounded sincere in his apology, and Ignis rose to his feet, nudging Helian behind his knee, trying to keep him safe behind him. "I did not mean to knock your son over."

"He's not my--" Ignis stopped himself. It was not important for the stranger to know that much about himself or the young boy he was keeping safe. "You just need to watch where you're going."

"You coulda stepped on our lunch!" Helian accused from behind Ignis.

"Lunch...." The man echoed slowly, and Ignis could hear the rumble of his stomach even at the distance he kept between them. "You... made lunch?"

Stepping closer, Ignis was able to get a better look at the man, though the distinct features of his face were still unclear to him. The man's face was dark with stubble, his hair was wild. There was an air about him as though he had no one to take care of him. "Yes. We were going to have a picnic, and thankfully I had no yet caught up to lay out our provisions in the grass."

The man's stomach grumbled again, and Ignis watched him lay an arm across his middle, saw the way his cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. "Sorry," the man muttered in a low voice, "I haven't had anything to eat in a few days..."

Ignis felt Helian tugging on his sleeve and he looked down at him. The boy didn't have to say anything, he could tell by looking into those big eyes, he could tell just by the nature of his mother and his father. The boy had the same bleeding heart as his parents and he sighed in reluctant defeat before looking back at the man before them. "Would you care to join us?"

The man shook his head, taking a cautious step back. "N-no. I shouldn't. I couldn't."

"Pleeeeease?" Helian's poked his head out from behind Ignis's knee. "You sound hungry."

Ignis sighed, and gently nudged the boy back behind his knee. "I wouldn't invite you, but if he insists. I do often make extra sandwiches, just in case." He started to move, reaching into the picnic bag to pull out the soft sheet and with Helian's help, spread it out on the grass in front of them. "I will not, however, force you."

Helian helped, pulling sandwiches out of the bag, setting them out on the sheet, pulling out cans of juice and bags of snacks, before sitting comfortably on the ground, munching on a carrot stick. Ignis sat with him, cracking open a thermos of coffee, watching the dark clad figure out of the corner of his eye. He watched the man hesitate, and then after a long pause, he lowered himself to the sheet and reached for a sandwich. 

"Want a carrot?" Helian offered one with a bright smile.

Ignis watched the man recoil at the sight of the orange colored vegetable. "N-no. No thank you. I don't... I don't eat carrots."

"You're weird."

"Don't be rude," Ignis scolded, taking a sip from his thermos of coffee. 

"Sorry...."

"This was directed to both of you."

Ignis watched the way the man's shoulders straightened, as in surprise, at being scolded. He watched the way his posture sagged as he looked down at his sandwich. "Sorry," the man muttered.

Helian picked apart his sandwich, eating it in its separate components. Ignis was used to it, he tolerated it patiently, though he felt vaguely insulted, as if his preparation was not good enough for the young boy. Ignis watched the man hesitate over his sandwich, as if examining its contents carefully before he finally took a bite.

The man made a surprised sound that gave way to an upset noise.

Ignis turned his gaze to him. "Is it bad?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"N-no," the man stuttered, the protest sounding forced. 

Ignis had very little patience for anyone not in his small social network. There were the small few he would bend over backwards for, that he would wait an eternity for, but this man was not one of them. "You don't have to lie to me. Food doesn't have to be delicious to be eaten if you're hungry." He had bit back the urge to snap at him, but did not manage to bite back the urge to scold him.

"It's delicious. It's more than delicious." The man shook his head very quickly, his hands tightening on the sandwich as he drew it towards his mouth again, taking a bite. "It tastes..." he said slowly, after swallowing, and Ignis wondered if that was sadness he heard in his voice, "... like home."

Those words combined with the sadness that laced them, squeezed at Ignis's chest again. He, very suddenly and very briefly, felt as though he couldn't breathe. Helian tugged on his sleeve again and he took in a breath. He looked down at the small boy, and ruffled his hair gently. "Do my sandwiches taste like home?"

"They taste like your home. Mom's sandwiches are nicer."

Ignis sighed, before lifting his gaze up from the child, looking across at the man as he ate his sandwich. "Well, thank you for the compliment, then."

The man nodded his head a few times. Ignis noticed that he was eating very slowly: as if trying to savor each bite, as if trying to make it last. Each bite seemed smaller than the last. He was eating food in a way that people had begun to forget, the careful metering of their rations in a time when nothing flourished. "There's another sandwich," Ignis offered.

The man hesitated. "Are you sure I can have it?"

Ignis pushed the carefully wrapped sandwich across the sheet and watched the way the man's hand hesitated over it, hovering near it, afraid to touch it. "Please. There's more where that came from."

Slowly the man took the sandwich and pulled it close to himself. He made a soft sound that bordered between happiness and sadness. Ignis wondered how often this man was able to eat. He wondered if he had a place to go and a bed to sleep in. He wondered if he had someone to care for him or someone to care for. He wondered why he even cared to wonder those things.

"Thank you," The man managed slowly.

Ignis forced himself to turn his attention away from the stranger, forced himself to dote on Helian, who had started eating from the plastic baggy of carrots again. He always preferred to eat his vegetables over eating anything else. His parents had obviously raised him very well. 

Eventually Helian's attention ran thin, as it often did, and he jumped up from the sheet and took off in a run around in the grass. He chased after a small bird, laughing. He was excitable, like his parents. Ignis took that as a sign that they should pack up their things and head back. before the young boy were to lose the little patience he had. He glanced over at the stranger, who had only eaten half of his first sandwich and was still holding on tightly to the second.

Ignis moved to his feet slowly and the man reacted quickly in response, jumping to his feet, obviously not wanting to overstay his welcome, surprisingly nimble for someone that appeared to be starving. "You can take those home with you," Ignis offered with a nod of his head.

"Th-thank you," the man seemed to be holding them close to his chest, as if treasuring the ordinary sandwiches, treating them as more than just bread and filling. His voice was still small and hesitant, cautious. 

"Eat them, please. They are perishable. They won't do you any good once they begin to spoil." Ignis carefully tucked the remains of their lunch away in his pack, carefully folded the soft sheet into quarters. When he glanced back, the man had already taken several steps away, putting distance between them.

"I'll eat them. Thank you. So much."

Ignis didn't get much of a chance to respond before Helian was running at him, throwing himself into his legs, hugging him, whining that he wants to play chocobo. By the time he lowered himself to his knees, let the young boy climb onto his back and lift himself back onto his feet, the man was gone. Ignis looked around, though he wasn't sure why he had even bothered. His distance vision had not yet recovered. The scenery around him was nothing more than a blur of greens, greys and darkness. He felt Helian punch his shoulder and saw him point forward out of the corner of his eye. 

"Onwards!"

Despite serving in the royal Crownsguard for years, after the light had returned Ignis had opted to not continue his services. Something about it didn't sit right with him, even with his returning vision. He felt as though he didn't have anyone to protect, that he no longer had anyone to serve, so he spent his days acting as caretaker for Helian, a role he felt very comfortable with. The sun had only just begun to set when he brought the young boy back home. His father greeted him at the door with his familiar wide grin and bright voice. His blond hair was a fluffy, uncontrollable halo around his head, illuminated by the light of the home behind him. 

"Papa!" Helian stretched his arms out to his father, who scooped him up with ease. 

"Was he good today?"

Ignis rolled his shoulders. "He's always good, Prompto. He's a wonderful child."

Prompto laughed as Helian made himself comfortable in his arms, cuddled against his chest. "Do you want to come in and have dinner with us? Iris is still out at Hammerhead, but she said she left something in the freezer..."

Ignis shook his head. He could hear the sympathy in his colleague's voice, always concerned, always thoughtful. "I'm afraid I have to decline," he answered apologetically, "I am just not feeling particularly social tonight."

"Social? But it's me!"

"Yes, and you are very tiring."

Prompto puffed his cheeks out, pretending to be offended by the insult, but he knew the words were tossed around in jest. "Okay, be that way Mr. Grumpy Pants." He softened his expression slightly, head tilting. "You're always invited, you know that. I don't like it when you spend too much time alone."

"I'm never alone, Prompto. I watch after Helian and sometimes even Zahra when Cid isn't available. My life is very full." Despite his words, Ignis knew that Prompto believed just the opposite. Shortly after the light had returned to Eos, Ignis had gone through a very difficult time, experiencing a kind of depression that he could not put into words. He was able to, at best, explain that he felt as though there was something missing, as though he had lost something greater than he could even think to describe. Even now, Prompto continued to worry about him. 

"Okay. If you say so." Prompto lingered in the door, waiting for Ignis to turn on his heel and leave, striding back the few blocks away to his own apartment. Ignis didn't even have to look back to confirm it, Prompto always did, always watching until he was safely out of sight. 

Sometimes Ignis suspected it was because Prompto didn't trust that he wouldn't do anything rash when he was alone. Ignis navigated his solitary apartment in the dark, still more accustomed to the absence of vision. He had the layout of his living space memorized, navigating easily in the kitchen as he made and slowly poured himself a cup of coffee, cans of Ebony still a rare commodity. His apartment was sparse for ease of movement, and he had very little possessions to call his own. He set his phone into the speaker cradle, and the soft sounds of strings gently started to fill the dark room.

Over the past five years Ignis had managed to pull himself out of his depression. His sight returning, perhaps, had something to do with it. He learned to drag himself back out, learned to appreciate the sunlight and the daytime again. He started running and training and forcing himself to find the energy that he had lost. His friends got married and had children. He found purpose as he took care of their children. He occasionally would assist at the citadel, but he did not commit his time there as he once had. Despite all that, there was still something missing, a gap, an inexplicably hole inside him that seemed impossible to fill.

Gladio told him that he needed to find someone to fall in love with. He needed to get married and start a family, that all that love and affection would fill that emptiness.

Ignis disagreed. The idea of meeting someone, courting them, having children with them was almost repulsive. He didn't _want_ that. He wanted something else, but he couldn't put it in words.

Prompto was significantly more understanding of his feeling, and did not subject Ignis to the same blind dates Gladio would occasionally set up for him. He had expressed on several occasions feeling the same way, that something was missing from their lives, but he easily explained it away with all the people they had lost when Insomnia went down that fateful night at the hands of the Empire. 

Ignis fell asleep in his chair as he often did, and he woke up with a stiff neck as he often did. He rolled his shoulders with a groan. He could here the television from the apartment next door, reporting about the Guardian Angel of Tenerbrae, a woman who had arrived one day after the light had returned, bringing with her life and hope.

The light filtering in through the curtains hurt his eyes and told him it was morning as it always did, and he prepared himself to start all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Episode Ignis I started writing this because I was driven mad by overwhelming Ignoct feels. It is intended to sort of convey the feeling that the film _Your Name_ gives, that feeling longing and trying to remember something that is impossible to remember. Also reminiscent of _The Adventure Zone_ , of which I steal a few minor concepts from the McElroys, which you will see later, but I feel the need to credit them now before I forget to when those chapters roll around.
> 
> There will be 10 chapters. They are about 90% done at the posting of this. Thank you for reading the first.


	2. The King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Have another chapter in celebration! :)

Ignis had forgotten about the man he had met and offered two sandwiches to in the park. The impression he left had not been enough to justify occupying the forefront of his hippocampus, taking up valuable real estate that was best served to remembering the names of Helian's favorite super hero characters and toys he wanted for the holidays, and Zahra's favorite foods and how warm she liked her milk. 

It would take a month to pass before Ignis would think of the stranger again. He found himself in the park, with Helian running full speed ahead and Zahra perched on his hip as he followed, calling out for the boy to slow down. The boy ran back suddenly, grabbing at the hem of Ignis's sleeve. "Look! It's the guy that doesn't eat carrots!"

Ignis lifted his gave up from the small boy, trying to follow the line of his finger, pointing across the grass. He saw a black blur obscuring one of the typically slate colored benches and trusted that Helian saw what he could not. He frowned. "Leave him be."

"I wanna get him to eat a carrot!" Helian dug around in Ignis's pack until he found exactly what he had been looking for, a small plastic baggy filled with carefully sliced carrot sticks before taking off. He was fast, like his parents, and Ignis wasn't able to grab him in time to stop him, especially not with an infant on his hip, who was chewing on the collar of his shirt. 

Ignis jogged after him as best as he could and he could hear the young boy pushing the vegetables on the stranger as though they were some sort of incredible drug. 

"Please no, I don't eat carrots," the man protested, obviously trying to turn his head as Helian nudged a carrot stick against his cheek.

Ignis had forgotten the sound of the man's voice and he was startled when he heard it, because that feeling returned to him again, a voice that reached inside hm, squeezed st his lungs, making it difficult to breathe. It was as though he had heard that voice before, before their first meeting, a voice that should have been familiar but wasn't. He caught up eventually, taking Helian by the wrist. 

"Stop. Leave that poor man alone."

"But-"

"Helian, what have your parents told you about strangers?"

"But he's not a stranger. We've had lunch with him before!"

Ignis sighed. Both Prompto and Iris were incredible at making friends, while they taught the usual lessons about not talking to strangers to their son, strangers was not quite a word that existed in their social lives. As far as either of them were concerned, everyone was a friend. Helian obviously picked up on that.

Zahra's babbling caught Ignis's attention. He could hear her happy baby speak as she stretched her arms out towards the man, fingers opening and closing as if trying to grab at him. She was smiling when Ignis looked at her, she seemed to recognize the man, reaching out to him as though he were as familiar to her as Ignis was.

The man, however, did not seem as comfortable as the children did. 

"I'm sorry," Ignis apologized, carefully pulling Zahra's hands back, holding onto them, bouncing her on his hip, trying to distract her from the man in front of them.

"N-no. It's okay. Your children are very cute, I'm just not... used to... the attention." The man was running his hands through his hair, fixing his dark clothes. He was fidgeting in a way that made it seem as though he were trying to make himself look presentable, as though he had not expected to be caught by someone.

"They're not my--" Ignis protested, catching Helian again before he could resume force feeding the man a carrot stick. "But still, I apologize for them interrupting you. They're still young, and this one is happy to consider everyone his friend."

"Want a sandwich?" Helian offered with a wide grin, and Ignis couldn't quite make out the expression on the man's face, the details of his features still a blur to him.

"I still feel pretty bad about intruding before. I'm fine, thanks." The man turned on the bench, tilting himself away, trying to remove himself from the situation. Ignis knew the gesture too well, he did it often when the remaining Crownsguard held social activities, parties, get together, after work meetings that they tried very hard to insist Ignis attend whenever possible. Gladio somehow always made it about introducing Ignis to a lovely woman. They were, as Gladio said, very lovely. They were pretty, they were sweet, thoughtful, understanding of the expectations of Crownsguards, able to hold their own in the darkness, and yet Ignis found each one thoroughly unappealing.

"We don't have sandwiches today regardless." Ignis nudged Helian behind his legs. "No picnic today, I had said. We are only passing through." He nodded his head in the direction of the man, before turning, nudging the boy in the direction of the winding pathway. "Take care." The words were not quite directed at the stranger, but he offered them into the air despite this.

"Eh eh," Zahra babbled, opening and closing her hands in the man's direction, looking over Ignis's shoulder as she did, as though she were saying goodbye with the same sort of familiarity that she would use on Ignis or her Uncle Prompto.

After that Ignis had started to notice the man at the park with recurring frequency. Every time he was there, with the kids, or if he decided to cut through the park on his nighttime runs, he would recognize the man clad in all black. It wasn't as though he haunted the same location, like some sort of apparition. He moved around. Sometimes he was by the benches; sometimes he was walking on the path; sometimes he was sitting in the grass. If the children were with Ignis, they would try to encourage Ignis to head in the man's direction. At first Ignis tried to stop them, but eventually he succumbed to their will, and he started to intentionally pack extra snacks.

The man, he learned, enjoyed fruit more than vegetables, so some snacks changed to accommodate this knowledge.

Ignis did not try to ask very much more than that, not with the children around. He never asked the man's name, respecting the distance between them. He wasn't suspicious of him. He seemed to trust the man, despite this, and the children did not consider him a stranger, not with the way Helian would talk to him excitedly about that new game he'd been playing, or with the way Zahra would hold herself up on him, or climb comfortably into his lap. As far as the children were concerned, he was an old friend, no different from Talcott, Dustin or Cor. 

Helian liked to call the man, "King", and when asked why he would say, "He just looks like a king."


	3. The Snowfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to try and post 1 chapter every day or every other day until it's all up and done. It does eventually get smutty, and I'll update the rating when it happens. ;) Thanks for reading! I really hope you guys like where this goes...........

As the days grew shorter, and the air grew colder Ignis did not frequent the park as often as he did during the warmer months. Helian had started school and he stayed indoors with Zahra the days Cid was not able to watch his great granddaughter. She had gone from sitting on his hip and wobbling whenever she stood on her own too feet, to running as far and as fast as her cousin, and Cid in his advance years sometimes had a difficult time keeping up with her.

Without the children Ignis would frequent the Citadel, mostly to help prepare it for the holidays. Cor was a very good leader for the Kingdom, but he was very bad at celebrations. Ignis would arrange for decor and donations and for outreach programs that fed the citizens seasonal foods. The roaming roasted sweet potato trucks were very popular. It was possible to cut through the park to reach the Citadel, but he often just took a ride with Prompto or Iris. He missed driving, but his eyesight had not yet improved to the point where he trusted himself on the road again. He wished it would, because there was something comforting about sitting a moving vehicle with loved ones.

Today, however, he took the shortcut through the park. Both Prompto and Iris had insisted on attending their son's first visiting day, complete with flags to cheer him on. Ignis imagined that unlike most children, Helian would be the opposite of embarrassed.

Ignis took his time, walking slowly through the park. When he saw the familiar dark figure of the man, he was surprised to realize that he had actually been looking for him, his steps deliberately slow in hopes of catching sight of him. Today the man was sitting on one of the benches, his gaze trained outwards. Ignis approached, though not as quietly as he hoped, the soles of his dress shoes clicking against the pavement.

The man turned to look at him. Ignis could make out his mouth, formed in an 'O' of surprise. Ignis noticed, even at this distance, that the man's dark beard had gotten quite full since their first meeting.

"Morning...?" The man sounded very hesitant when he spoke.

"Good morning." Ignis greeted in return, offering the man a small, somewhat awkward feeling smile.

An uncomfortable silence hung between them for what felt like an eternity. Ignis could have walked away at anytime, but in the moment he felt it inappropriate.

"Uhm..." The man started, filling in the silence just as Ignis opened his mouth to speak.

"Thanks for tolerating me--"  
"Thank you for being so attentive with the children--"

Their voices overlapped and they both stopped.

There was beat, and Ignis felt his lips split into a sincere smile. The man was chuckling. The sound of it reached inside him and filled his belly with warmth. He moved and carefully sat himself down on the bench next to the man, putting them on even footing.

"I feel that this may be a bit delayed given the frequency of our encounters, but perhaps we're due for an introduction?"

The man shifted on the bench, turning to look at him. At this distance, Ignis could see that there was something gaunt and hollowed out in the man's face. There were dark circles under his eyes and he appeared quite thin, though the dark beard did quite a bit to hide that fact, but there was a sparkle in his bright blue eyes. They were youthful and lively, and Ignis could feel as though the man's gaze was seeing straight into the depths of his heart. "That boy calls me King."

"That boy is named Helian, and the girl is Zahra, though they are not with me today. My name is Ignis."

The man nodded thoughtfully, as though finally putting names to faces and then he placed a hand across his heart. "I'm Noctis."

_Noctis._

The name struck Ignis somewhere deep inside, piercing through him like a red, hot spear. Hearing the name both ached and warmed him at the same time, as though he recognized it even though he swore he had never heard it before in his entire life. He sucked in a breath. "Noct?" he repeated slowly, unaware that he had shortened the word until it was hanging in the air between them. The nickname rolled off his tongue almost too easily. "I'm sorry I meant--"

"No, Noct is fine. They used to call me that when I was younger."

"They?"

"My friends." Noctis said the words slowly, quietly. There was sadness in his voice and Ignis did not dare ask more questions. He didn't want to bring up any memories that would have best been left behind in the darkness. Too many lives and too many loved ones were lost during that time, and he imagined Noctis was no different.

Ignis changed the subject. "You're always here, in the park. Why is that?"

Noctis visibly hesitated. "I like it here," he finally responded after a pregnant pause. "It's peaceful. I can people watch, and it means bumping into you and your kids."

"They're not mine," Ignis corrected again for what felt like the millionth time. Noctis wasn't the only one that made that mistake. "They're the children of my dear friends. They're cousins. Their parents are members of the Crownsguard-- well three of the four of them are-- and they're often quite busy, so I'd been recruited to act as their nanny. It comes naturally to me, I don't mind."

"You-- you're not Crownsguard?" Noctis sounded surprised, and Ignis didn't blame him. The Lucian crest decorated much of his wardrobe and in lieu of that, he often wore a pin on the breast of his jacket to commemorate the time he spent in the service.

"I used to be," Ignis clarified, as he turned his gaze away, tracking the pathway in front of them. "I had... lost my vision in an accident before the darkness fell. I served as well as I could have during that time, and my eyesight has begun to return but I... prefer a life of retirement, so to speak."

"How did you lose your sight?" Noctis sounded concerned brow furrowed.

It was Ignis's turn to hesitate this time. He hated answering this question. "I don't remember," he confessed. It was the truth. He had no recollection of the incident. Both Gladio and Prompto had said that while their memory of the incident was also foggy, they remembered finding Ignis, unconscious and injured by the Altar in Altissia as the city burned in the remnants of the attack by the Empire. None of them knew why they had found him there, what he had been doing there, how he had gotten injured. The scars of the incident littered the left side of his body, racing up from his hand all the way to his eye in the shape of flames.

"I'm so sorry." Noctis's apology sounded sincere, as though he weren't offering empathy, but rather apologizing for the incident himself as if he had been responsible for Ignis's own misfortune.

"I don't know why you're sorry."

Noctis hesitated. "It just seemed like the right thing to say, I guess."

Silence hung between them again, and Ignis felt Noctis shift uncomfortably on the bench beside him.

"Honestly," Noctis began, "I stay here because of the view."

"The view?"

"You can see the Citadel from here, the way the stairway crests up over the trees... the people that come and go, the movement in the windows, the Lucian flags that wave in the wind... I stay here because I like to watch all of that."

Ignis turned his head to look at Noctis, greeted by his profile as the man stared outwards. For a moment Ignis could see what Helian meant when he said he looked like a king. There was something regal about him, despite the scruff and tired face. It reminded him of King Regis, on closer examination. He looked away, towards the blur in the distance that he knew to be the Citadel. He couldn't make out any of those details that Noctis was describing. He could barely make out the details of Noctis's face.

"That sounds nice," Ignis finally responded.

"It is. I had never realized how beautiful the Citadel was." Noctis bowed his head, looking down at his hands, which he was wringing in his lap. "You probably think I'm crazy."

"Only a little, honestly." Ignis checked the watch on his wrist, realizing that he did have responsibilities to attend to, that he had spent longer here with the man in black than he had intended. He moved to his feet and took a step before looking back. "It's Candlenights season," he said, "Try not to stay in the park all night. It's getting quite cold after dark."

"Thanks for the concern."

The response had hardly been a promise to leave the park, and that stuck with Ignis as he worked, and stuck with him after Monica had driven him back to his apartment. He had meant to ask more questions, about his living situation, if he was eating, if he had a roof over his head, but he had somehow let himself get detoured into a conversation about his vision, about why the man lingered in the park.

Ignis rose from his chair and abandoned his mug of coffee as he grabbed a hat, a coat, winded a scarf around his neck and took his cane from the stand beside the door. He was able to run at night when the weather was good, but as winter came to Insomnia, he did not trust his footfalls nor the path as well as he should.

The tip of his cane hit the snow before his foot did, crunching softly. Grabbing the cane had been a good idea.

The air was brisk as Ignis walked to the park. Ignis could not see the snowflakes, even as they fell in the path of a street lamp. They were too small, too fine, too delicate for his eyes to even begin to attempt. He could feel them, though, as they landed on his cheeks and nose. A few flakes even managed to slip past the top of his glasses, landing on his eyelashes.

Ignis saw him there, when he arrived in the park, a dark figure on a bench, clothes flecked with snow. He wasn't certain if the well of emotions he felt in his chest were relief, concern, disappointment or happiness. "Noct!" he called out, his pace picking up as he waved a hand at the man in black, the man who was no longer a stranger.

"Igg- Ignis? What are you doing here?"

"I thought I told you to try and leave the park tonight. It's snowing."

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"What?"

Noctis chuckled lightly and shook his head. "It was a joke, sorry. What are you doing here?"

Ignis placed a hand over his heart, feeling it thundering away in his chest as though he had sprinted his way here. "Something told me you would still here. That you wouldn't have listened to me."

"Yeah, about that..."

"You don't have anywhere to go." Ignis made it a statement. He wasn't asking, he wasn't looking for confirmation, he knew.

Noctis hung his head. "No, I don't."

"Come home with me." Ignis said the words before he thought them. He stretched a gloved hand out to Noctis before he thought not to. He had never brought anyone back to his apartment, he had never felt comfortable enough to have anyone else in there, not even Prompto or Gladio had been invited inside.

"N-no. I couldn't. I'll find somewhere to go. I've spent many nights at the shelter, I'm sure they'll--"

"Come home with me," Ignis repeated and he took Noctis's hand in his own. The warmth where their hands met, even through the leather of his glove, was familiar, though he swore he had never touched Noctis before now. "Please."

"Man, I don't know how anyone could possibly say no to you when you make that face." Noctis rose to his feet, and their fingers intertwined as Ignis held onto him as though afraid he would try to escape.

The walk back to the Ignis's apartment was done mostly in silence, with Ignis refusing to let their hands break apart. Noctis lagged a few steps behind as they walked, and Ignis felt as though he were pulling a child along with him. It wasn't as though he pulling Helian, Zahra or any other child along as their caretaker. In this instance he also felt like a young boy, dragging his slow-footed younger brother with him. There was a memory there that Ignis couldn't place, a memory of being in the snow, walking an apologetic young boy, who had run away, back home to where it was warm, comfortable and filled with love.

_M'sorry for running away, Iggy..._

_I'm sorry for yelling at you, Noct._

Ignis stopped midstride. He glanced back just in time for Noctis to bump into him.

"Oof. Sorry Iggy-- Ignis. Why'd you stop?"

"No reason, I just wanted to make sure you were still there."

"You're holding onto me like I'm some kind of kid. Of course I'm still here."

Ignis looked down at their hands, fingers still intertwined with a kind of familiarity that they should not have had with each other. "Right, of course." He started walking again, and he felt Noctis's presence against his back the rest of the way to his apartment.


	4. The Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I promised I would post a chapter a day or so until it's all up. So here's chapter 4. Here's where it starts to get a little more Mature............

"You can have a shower and a bath. I'll find a set of clothes that you can borrow," As soon as they had crossed the threshold into his apartment, Ignis fell almost too easily into offering care for the stray he had brought home with him. It felt natural, comfortable. "The bathroom is the last door at the end of the hall and I'll make--"

"Could I turn on the lights?"

Ignis paused. He never turned the lights on in his apartment. He had never had a need for it. He had spent so many years in darkness that sometimes he was comforted by navigating the living space by memory alone. The request reminded him that he had invited someone into his home for the first time since light returned to Eos. "Yes, of course."

The artificial light the blossomed when Noctis flipped the switch caught Ignis off guard, piercing his vision like daggers, and he squinted as he nudged at his glasses. The gesture must have indicated his discomfort with excruciating clarity because the light went out almost immediately after.

"I'm sorry," Noctis apologized, "That must have hurt."

Ignis shook his head, and reached a hand out for the light switch, feeling Noctis's hand beneath his own. He moved their hands together, flipping the switch up. His eyes were shut this time, preventing a similar reaction. "I should have known to be careful, but I can't have you walking into all my things and disrupting the layout of my home. That would be even worse." He moved automatically to desk, finding the sunglasses he kept for places immersed in artificial light, swapping them with his glasses. The dark tint helped a little when he opened his eyes. "As I was saying, there's a bathroom at the end of the hall, you can have a shower and a bath."

After a moment of what Ignis assumed was hesitation, Noctis thanked him and headed down the hallway towards the bathroom. he watched his dark shape pause at the wrong door and then move on to the correct one. The motion was subtle, but he found it endearing. He waited until he heard the sound of water running before going into his bedroom, rummaging in his dresser for an appropriate outfit of comfortable clothes. His hands slipped over soft, well worn cotton and stopped.

The shirt had been with Ignis for a countless number of years. He had no memory of when he purchased it, or even why he purchased it. It wasn't to his tastes and it didn't even fit. It was black and flocked with velvet in a pattern he couldn't recognize by feel alone. Gladio thought they were flowers and Prompto thought they were crosses. Ignis had the unpopular opinion of thinking they were skull and crossbones. Regardless of what they were or where the shirt came from, he kept it. It felt important somehow.

Tonight, the shirt, too small for his own frame, seemed perfect for Noctis.

Ignis rapped his knuckles against the bathroom door and waited a beat before entering with the borrowed clothes. Noctis was still in the shower, and he could make out the shape of his silhouette against the frosted glass. He was scrubbing at his face and he made a frustrated sound.

"Noctis?" Ignis watched him pause, turn his gaze towards the glass and then jump.

"Igg- Ignis?!"

"I can't see anything, don't worry. There are disposable razors in the medicine cabinet, if you want to do something about that beard of yours."

"Uh--" Noctis sounded hesitant, and Ignis could make out the shape of him scrubbing at his face. "I don't know how to."

"How to-- to shave?" Ignis did not mean to sound so startled, but he had a hard time believing someone who could grow a beard like that would have no knowledge of how to shave. Unless that someone had been cared for meticulously his whole life, he mentally corrected. Ignis hesitated and then sighed, a hand at his forehead. "When you're finished in here, I'll show you how."

"You really don't have to."

"Please, I insist."

"N-no, it's okay. I can live with it--"

"Your beard makes you look homeless." Ignis snapped as he gathered up the pile of dirty clothes then turned on his heel and left the bathroom, closing the door shut behind him. He leaned back against it, hugging the clothes against his chest. He could feel his heart thundering against his rib cage, could hear it in his ears. He felt breathless, unsure why he felt so comfortable mocking- no, teasing- a complete stranger like that. Anxiety welled up inside him, starting somewhere in his belly and worked its way up until his cheeks were hot with embarrassment. Despite all that, he felt his lips split into an uncontrollable smile, inexplicably happy in a way he hadn't felt in years.

Ignis busied himself, making dinner in the kitchen to try and occupy himself, to try and distract himself from the conflicting emotions waging away in his chest and in his gut. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee after tasting, regretting and discarding the one from earlier that evening. As he hovered over the stove, watching the chickatrice simmer away in the pot, hands cradling the mug of coffee, he heard soft, barefooted footsteps behind him.

"That smells delicious."

Ignis turned. Predictably, Noctis was standing behind him, hairs damp, towel around his neck. The shirt fit him perfectly, as if it were made for him, hanging only slightly off his thin frame in a way that Ignis imagined would look much better if he could put some meat on his bones. His facial scruff was messy, hiding half of his face from view. Ignis set his mug down and approached him, sliding the towel off his shoulders to scrub at his beard.

Noctis made a sound of protest that, like everything else about this man, reminded him of something long forgotten. Ignis lowered the towel. "Now you look like a clean homeless man." He pushed away at Noctis's long bangs, and without any distance between them he could start to make out his features, though most of them were buried beneath the dark beard. He wondered what sort of face hid beneath it.

"Come with me." Ignis took Noctis's hand again in his own again and lead him down towards the bathroom.

Despite having told Noctis earlier that there were disposable razors in the medicine cabinet which as not a lie, they were not Ignis's first choice for shaving. He, like much of his lifestyle, preferred to keep things classic, and he pulled out the straight razor, spinning it idly in his hand as he retrieved the shaving cream. He had expected Noctis to overreact the way many others did when they saw him demonstrate his knife skills or his preference for the old fashioned method of shaving, but it never happened.

"Can you see?" Noctis asked carefully, as he tilted his head back just slightly, as though he had experienced this before.

"My eyes have adjusted to the light, thank you. I'll manage."

Carefully, Ignis lathered up the dark beard with the brush, swirling it through his hairs to get every inch of it coated in white. He did each side, and then apologized as he swept the brush over Noctis's upper lip. He was rather impressed with the man's patience, and wondered if he had spent his younger days spoiled by someone, shaved by someone. Ignis carefully manipulated Noctis's head, tilting it to the side before flipping the razor open and starting.

The blade glided easily over Noctis's cheek, cutting through the dark hairs, revealing pale skin underneath. He worked slow and meticulously, aiming for a close, smooth shave. The air was silent between them, save for the quiet scratching sound of razor cutting through hair. Noctis's cheeks blossomed pink under the attention.

Ignis continued to work, tilting Noctis's head back further, exposing the long line of his neck. He could see the his adam's apple bobbing up and down with each nervous swallow, but despite that Noctis seemed to trust him completely. There weren't many men who would tilt their heads back as a stranger approached them with a sharp blade, much less a stranger who had lost his sight nearly two decades back.

Ignis carefully shaved away the hairs from Noctis's chin and down his neck.

Between swipes of the blade, Ignis gently wiped away the remaining cream with a soft towel before caressing the skin, satisfied with his work. At this distance he could make out more and more of Noctis's details as they were revealed to him. He had a narrow jaw and a full bottom lip with a gentle curl that reminded Ignis of a cat.

As the razor shaved away the hairs under his nose, Ignis revealed the wide, shallow cupid's bow of Noctis's thin upper lip. He cleaned the razor under the warm running water before rewetting the towel and using it to carefully wipe Noctis's cheeks and chin and lips again.

Underneath all that hair was a baby faced man, deaged from his fifties to his thirties.

Noctis opened his eyes as Ignis massaged aftershave into his skin. There was a beat, with Ignis's hands cupping Noctis's young face, their gazes meeting.

There as something familiar in Noctis's blue eyes. Ignis felt as though he had seen those eyes before; felt as though he knew those eyes almost intimately. There were no answers to the comfort he felt with Noctis, why he felt so at ease in his presence despite hardly knowing the man.

Ignis heard Noctis suck in a breath, watched him surge forward up onto his toes, and then warm lips that tasted of witch hazel and peppermint were pressed against his own. He staggered back in surprise, before he felt something like a crackle of energy, a spark between their lips and he was kissing him back.

Noctis's lips were soft and pliable. His newly shaved skin was smooth. His body was thin in Ignis's arms as Noctis pushed him back against the sink. The razor clattered to the tile floor.

Their lips moved easily together, parting for each other. Ignis felt Noctis's tongue against his own, dragging a moan from somewhere so deep inside him he hadn't even been aware he could make a sound like that. His hands slid up into Noctis's longish, damp hair, tugging him closer, fitting him against his body, between his legs, held up by the jut of the sink against his back.

A series of kisses followed the first, their lips parting for barely half a second before rejoining, deeper still. They explored the depths of each other's mouths, and Ignis couldn't remember every kissing anyone like this, couldn't remember ever wanting to kiss anyone like this, but with Noctis he was struck with a feeling as though he couldn't get enough.

Eventually Noctis pulled back, strings of saliva hanging between their open mouths before Ignis saw what he recognized as a look of immense guilt flash across his face, cheeks turning bright red. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I couldn't--"

Ignis held up a hand to stop Noctis from saying any more, as he slid down from the sink where he had somehow ended up perched amidst the union of their mouths. He licked his swollen lips before shaking his head. "Don't apologize." He tried to keep his voice steady. "If I hadn't wanted it, I would have pushed you away."

"Igg--"

"Dinner should be about ready. I'll go make us up each a bowl." Ignis escaped the bathroom, feeling exposed and vulnerable. His body was practically vibrating with the memory of the kiss, like the strings of a harp that continues to sing until stopped by the hands that play it. He hadn't wanted the moment to stop, and he wanted more.

Ignis heard the sound of Noctis's footsteps approach, and he set the bowls out on the rarely used kitchen table in time to see him walk in. He offered him a small smile, and without the dark facial hair in the way, Ignis could see the way Noctis's lips curled upward in return. "I enjoyed it," Ignis said, as he gestured to one of the seats. "The kiss, I mean."

Noctis's cheeks turned a dark shade of red. "Me too."

The words hung, tense, in the air between them, like a string pulled taut as though both of them were trying to keep their wits about them. Ignis took advantage of the moment to watch Noctis eat instead, using it as a sort of distraction.

He had gotten into the habit of watching his expression every time he had been fed. Noctis's face would always show a moment of surprise, and then happiness and followed by lingering sadness. Tonight was no different, as he dug into the bowl of rice, chickatrice and egg.

Noctis made a soft noise. It was pleasant, genuine and filled with the sadness that ghosted across Noctis's face.

"Is it to your tastes?"

"It... It tastes like home." It was the same answer Noctis always gave.

"Where is home, anyway?" Ignis regret asking as soon as he said it, watching the way Noctis's face fell, the way he pushed the food around in his bowl.

"It's gone."

It was the obvious answer. Many homes had been lost at the hand of the Empire, nations lost in sacrifice to the kingdom of Lucis and many more when the darkness fell over Eos. It seemed strange that his cooking would remind Noctis so strongly of home, but Ignis realized that perhaps it was the taste of home cooking that Noctis was referring to, food that was made by someone for their loved ones instead of made by a professional or in large batches to serve the hungry and homeless.

"I'm sorry for asking. I could give you the recipe if you wanted?" Though Ignis said it, he knew Noctis didn't have a place to cook, he barely had a place to wash up and sleep.

Noctis laughed lightly and shook his head. "I'll be sure to cook it in a campfire in the park next time. You're invited, if you enjoy camping."

Ignis had gone camping. He had spent quite a lot of time camping. He recalled traveling across Lucis, from Insomnia to Altissia with Gladio and Prompto. He recalled long nights at campsites, protected by the gods to keep the daemons at bay. He recalled cooking for all four of them - no, all three of them. Ignis looked across the table at Noctis and he thought again that there had been four of them traveling across Lucis. "I can tolerate camping," Ignis responded, "Though my friend, Gladiolus, is a much bigger fan."

"I'll invite him then." Noctis said with a fond smile speaking of Gladio as though he knew him, and Ignis wanted ask but he didn't. Something was stopping him, something he hoped was just common sense.

Noctis turned his attention back to the food. He was eating the rice bowl as though it were one of his favorite foods, and Ignis thought of the idiom that described hunger as the best sauce. He was pleased to see Noctis ask for seconds, and thirds until he was sitting back in his chair, sighing with satisfaction, hands on his full stomach.

Compared to the man Ignis had met in the park, the man in front of him seemed like someone else entirely. In the park and all alone, Noctis had seemed gloomy. He had looked the way Ignis had felt in the years immediately after the light returned to Eos: worse than death, struggling to make it through each and every day. Now, in this moment, stomach filled with warm food, showered, shaven, dressed in comfortable clothes, Noctis looked the way Ignis felt right now: comfortable.

Ignis was startled to realize that he wanted to kiss that man again. He had no memory of ever feeling that way about anyone, about wanting them on that physical level that people often spoke about but he had no understanding of. It was why he found the concept of being in a relationship with someone unappealing, repulsive, and yet with this complete stranger he felt just the opposite. It wasn't even as though Noctis were the pinnacle of man. He wasn't beautiful in the conventional sense. He wasn't handsome. He was thin, hollowed out, gaunt, with features that would have been considered regal at one point in his life when he was healthier and well taken care of, but seeing that smile of satisfaction on Noctis's lips, knowing that he was being cared for filled Ignis with such indescribable warmth that started in his belly, spread to his limb, and made his lips stretch into a soft smile.

"Gross."

Ignis blinked. "What?"

"Your smile. It's gross," Noctis said with, what Ignis assumed from this distance, a teasing grin, one eye cracked open, looking across the table at him. "You were always scowling at me, in the park. Everytime you saw me. I thought you hated me, even though the kids liked me. Your smile makes me uncomfortable."

Ignis tried to frown, tried to turn his smile upside down and found that he couldn't. He covered his mouth with his hand instead. "I'm sorry."

"I was teasing." Noctis shifted in his seat, his grin slipping slightly. Ignis wondered if he saw something like sadness flash across his bright blue eyes. "I like it, actually, knowing that you can smile. That you can look at me and find some reason to smile. You know, like you don't hate me."

Ignis rose to his feet, walked the short distance around the small kitchen table, and leaned over Noctis. He kissed him, lightly, indulging the in the desire he had felt all through dinner. He felt that thrill again, that spark of warmth that leapt across Noctis's lips onto his own, before pulling back. The light kiss was enough. It was satisfying in a different way.

Noctis was looking up at him in surprise, cheeks pink. "Ignis..."

"I would like for you to sleep in my bed tonight. That is, I mean, I'll sleep out here." It was an attempt to change the subject, to distract from the kiss. Ignis didn't want to talk about it, he merely wanted the moment to exist, as if making a memory.

"I-- I couldn't do that to you." It had taken a moment for Noctis to respond, as though he will still trying to process the light kiss that had occurred moments earlier.

Ignis shook his head. "To be perfectly honest, I tend to sleep in the chair most nights anyway. Letting you have the bed is not actually a hardship." At this distance Ignis could see the details of Noctis's eyes, lightly speckled. He could see the hesitation in them, afraid to be more of a burden than he already has been. Ignis brushed the dark bangs from Noctis's brow. "And my bed is rather stiff and very uncomfortable, so I'm really just making things more difficult for you."

Relief washed over Ignis when Noctis finally laughed, agreed and let him put him to bed.

Ignis pointed out the way to the bathroom a second time, because he recalled the way Noctis had stopped short at the linen closet door earlier that evening. He explained that he was going to turn out all the lights, and asked politely if Noctis would refrain from turning them on, even if he needed to navigate his way to the kitchen or the bathroom.

"I have a flashlight," Ignis had offered, to which Noctis politely declined.

It wasn't until Noctis was under the covers, did Ignis finally feel satisfied leaving him alone, and he stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He moved to the light switch, and flicked it off, sighing in the darkness. He pulled off his sunglasses, and opted not to bother with his plain spectacles.

Not yet feeling fatigued enough to attempt to sleep. Ignis remembered the pile of clothes Noctis had worn into the apartment. He found them where he had left them: behind the door of the linen closet, on top of the washing machine.

He ran his fingers through the clothes, feeling for the pockets, checking if they were empty.

The clothes were stiff with dirt, but even then he could feel the rich quality of the fabric underneath. It was familiar, made of finely woven wool that reminded him of his Glaive jacket. The shirt that accompanied Noctis's suit felt as though it were made of high thread count cotton with smooth buttons that felt like pearl. This was not any ordinary suit. Even before the darkness, people had a difficult time procuring the money and resources to purchase or make something with this sort of quality. It felt expertly tailored, made to fit Noctis perfectly before he begun to waste away. It made Ignis wonder, and he turned his head back towards the direction of the bedroom.


	5. The Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're living where I'm living, then Happy Snow Day! (and Happy Bomb Cyclone, or whatever they're calling it!) Because this is a super short chapter, I might post Chapter 6 later today too. Thanks for all the super duper kind words, I hope you guys continue to enjoy it!

Eventually, as it always did, sleep caught up with Ignis, and he dozed off in the same chair he often spent his nights in. He preferred the chair more than his bed. In the chair he slept lightly, easy to arouse and difficult to dream. In his bed he had nightmares.

It was always the same, repeated every time he let himself fall into a deep sleep: the image of a man on the Lucian throne, pierced through by thirteen kings, thirteen arms and then a rush of darkness, the sound of laughter and then an explosion of light.

The first time Ignis remembered having that dream, he woke up with tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't know why. His heart felt heavy with a loss he couldn't explain, a loss he didn't understand. 

He never told anyone about that nightmare. He couldn't explain it. He tried, at one point, to make sense of it. The man on the throne. The darkness. The kings. Regis had been the last king of Lucis, there had been no others. He had sired no heirs. The queen had died, barren and childless. Still every time he had woken from that dream, the hole he felt inside him seemed to grow bigger and deeper. It developed a vastness he couldn't control.

Ignis's head rolled back as he dozed, vaguely aware of his surroundings. He could hear the cars on the streets; the rare footsteps of someone wandering the city at night; the nocturnal life, all things he had grown accustomed to hearing.

What he had not been used to hearing was the sound of someone in his bedroom. The bedsheets rustled, slow at first and then faster accompanied by the sound of ragged breathing that grew labored and panicked. It made Ignis wake. In one beat, he glanced towards the bedroom, in the second he was on his feet throwing open the door to see the dark figure thrashing on his bed, arms waving as though trying to beat off something that wasn't there.

"Noct!" Ignis rushed to the bed, grabbing at his wrists, trying to stop the man before he hurt himself.

In the dark Ignis could not see Noctis open his eyes, but he could hear his sharp intake of breath. He felt Noctis twist his wrists free from his grip; and then throw himself hard enough against his chest that it knocked the wind out of him. Noctis was clinging to him, grasping handfuls of his shirt, burying his face.

"Iggy. Iggy. Iggy."

The name came from the man in desperate sounding sobs. They racked his body, made him shake.

"Iggy, gods, Iggy."

Ignis hesitated, unsure of what was happening. His hands were held poised in the air, as he tried to make out the features of the man against his body. Noctis was a blur of darkness, a body of overwhelming heat. He could feel a spot of wetness on his shirt growing, confirming that the sounds Noctis was making were actually accompanied by tears.

Ignis lowered his hands, gently stroked one through the soft black hair, the other moving to rub circles against Noctis's back. He shushed him softly, humming as he held him, pet him.

"Iggy... please..."

Ignis shushed him again, rocked him against his chest, soothing him in a way that felt achingly familiar, as though he had done this a thousand times before. The memory of a child holding a child, hugging him close, trying desperately to offer comfort for something he did not yet understand. 

_Iggy, they're gonna get me. I'm scared. I'm so scared. I don't wanna die._

_Shhh, shhh. I won't let them. They'd have to go through me first. I will never let them take you from me, Noct._

Ignis lowered his head, pressed a kiss into the soft, feathery black hair, continuing to rock as he held Noctis against him. Eventually he felt Noctis start to relax, start to sag against his chest, hands letting go of his shirt, winding around his waist, hugging him close. His labored breathing slowed, evening out to a comforting rate until Ignis could hear the sounds of snoring, soft and muffled by his shirt, against his chest.


	6. Comfort and Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised Chapter 6 on this snowy, blowy day, and since I just finished trying to shovel myself out of this foot+ blizzard wonderland, I thought I'd try to heat things up a bit with this explicit chapter. Technically speaking I separated this out in case you wanted to read at work and needed to skip the NSFW bits (or if you just don't care for explicit bits...) but the remaining chapters do stay fairly mature from here on out. ENJOY

Ignis couldn't remember the last time he had slept in his own bed without waking to the sharp pain of his nightmares. He couldn't remember ever falling asleep with his arms wrapped around someone, waking up with his body entangled with someone else's. He didn't know what it was like to sleep with the warmth of another human, to wake with their heat and their scent surrounding him. He didn't know what it was like for all his senses to be completely engulfed by one person and one person alone.

He woke to see Noctis's face close against his own, lips slightly parted, eyes half open. Ignis felt as though those blue orbs were seeing straight through him and into the darkest depths he wouldn't dare reach for himself. He brushed a strand of black hair away from those eyes, gently entwined his fingers in the soft black hair, cradling the back of his head.

Noctis leaned forward and kissed him. 

A crackle. A sizzle. A spark of blue light where their lips met. Something that felt like shattering glass, fracturing with delight as mouths crushed together, seeking each other out.

Ignis kissed him as though he longed for him, as though he had been looking for Noctis his entire life. He opened up for him, lips parting, eager in a way he never imagined he would feel. His groans were swallowed by Noctis, devoured by him, hot tongue slipping against the own. He felt Noctis's teeth bite down on his bottom lip between kisses, and he let Noctis push him down, let him roll on top of him, let him settle between his legs.

Their bodies rocked together in rhythm with the movement of their mouths, sending that heat splintering through their bodies. Ignis rolled his hips up, feeling the hardness against his hip, his own body responding in kind. His hands reached in underneath the soft, worn cotton t-shirt. He could feel the bumps of Noctis's spine, the way they flexed as he moved a top him. 

"Gods..." Noctis murmured softly as he finally broke away from the kiss, murmuring the word like a blessing and a curse against Ignis's cheek. His mouth traversed Ignis skin, across the rough scar, kissing his eye as Ignis closed them obediently for him.

Noctis's lips found Ignis's ear, and he nipped him there, teeth biting into the lobe before sliding his tongue across the pinna, over the helix, along the whorls.

Ignis gasped at the attention, as Noctis found a sensitive spot he never knew existed in the soft space right behind his ear. He felt Noctis's tongue against it, licking it, nudging it, felt his teeth drag across his, nip at it. Ignis dug his fingers into Noctis's back, his body tensing at the sensations that felt like electricity through his body. His toes curled. "Noct--!"

Their mouths met again, as though Noctis were determined to gain possession of every sound Ignis was making, as though Noctis were not willing to share it with the world. His kisses were deep and desperate, hungry and urgent, and Ignis found that he felt the same, wanting more, using Noctis to fill that void inside him.

The next time their lips parted was so Noctis could peel off his shirt, revealing his thin frame underneath. The sight of it filled Ignis with a sense of responsibility and disappointment in himself, as though he were personally responsible for the wasted appearance of his body. He leaned up and kissed Noctis's protruding collarbone. 

Noctis's skin was littered with pale, shimmering scars of various sizes, shapes and severity. Battle worn like Gladio. Most distinct of all where the series of scars over his heart, criss crossed there until it resembled a sunburst of injuries. Ignis's hand caressed it before he leaned in and kissed it. He felt Noctis shiver at the touch.

Noctis moved onwards, hands traveling down, palming Ignis through the thin flannel of his pants. Ignis moaned at the touch, rocking his hips up, head falling back against the pillow. He indulged in the touch, in the caress of Noctis's hand along the length of his arousal, straining against the fabric.

Eventually, Ignis reached for Noctis, slid his hand down to feel for him, fingers slipping across the silk shorts. He found him easily, hard and hot, and Noctis gave an appreciative groan, pressing his forehead against Ignis's shoulder as they both worked each other free from the confines of their pants, stroking each other in complimentary rhythm. Noctis's hand was calloused, worn like the hand of a soldier, a hand of a warrior. It dragged over his cock, rough like sandpaper in a way that sent chills up his spine, making his skin prickle into goosebumps of pleasure.

They pushed their hips closer together, pushed their cocks again each other. Fingers intertwined as they stroked, hands overlapping. Noctis's cock was velvety soft, smooth against his own in sharp contrast to their rough palms. Ignis started to bite back a moan, as Noctis pried his lips apart with his tongue, kissing him again, taking that sound for his own.

Ignis let the sound go, willing and able to make his pleasure known, to give it up to Noctis without a second thought. Noctis brought out something to him he didn't know existed inside him, and he raked his free hand through that soft, black hair, the touch familiar beneath his fingertips and he kissed him before tilting head back as Noctis butted him, nuzzling his way down his neck, nipping at the skin.

Noctis's teeth sunk into the flesh where neck met shoulder and Ignis cried out, startled by the sharp pain, by the pleasure that quickly followed as Noctis worried his skin, bruising him, marking him. His body tensed, and he could feel a weight in his gut twisting in warning, balls tightening up against his body. "W-wait--" he gasped, trying to still the movement of their hands over their cocks. "I'm going to--"

"Please," Noctis begged, his lips finding Ignis's ear again, breathing the word hot and damp against his skin, "I want to feel you come."

There was no hope. Ignis bucked his hips up with a gasp that gave way to a low, almost guttural moan as his cock pulsed in their grip, splattering their bodies with wet and heat. Noctis continued to kiss his skin, soft, affectionate, feathery kisses across his neck as he milked him, dragging his hand up and down along the length of their cocks.

Ignis shuddered, collapsing back against the mattress, feeling spent. He was too old for this, to have lost control and come with reckless abandon, dirtying his shirt and their hands. He felt boneless, easily manipulated as Noctis kissed him again, rocking his still hard arousal against his hip as busy hands pushed at his flannel pants, pushing them down and out of the way. Ignis lifted his hips easily to help with it, kicking the fabric off when it caught around his ankles.

All the while, the kiss they shared was as slow and languid as the rolling of Noctis's hips. It was comforting, almost healing, as though he were siphoning Noctis's energy through his mouth. He ran his hands through Noctis's hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel his warmth against his body. He hooked a leg around the back of Noctis's thighs. 

Their lips parted, and Ignis found that he was panting, out of breath. He tried to catch it as Noctis buried his nose in his cheek, making soft snuffling noises as he frot against his hip. 

"I want to be inside you," Noctis murmured in a low, affectionate voice, as he lay kisses across his skin.

Ignis found that he had a hard time saying no. He wanted to give this man anything and everything he wanted and needed. The thought of being filled by Noctis sent a thrill down his spine, as though he had been waiting to hear those words forever, as though he had wanted that forever. "Yes," he breathed, leaning up to whisper the word against Noctis's ear. "Yes, please."

Their bodies shifted as Noctis moved to lay beside him, a hand sliding between his legs. A tube of ointment intended to soften the scars was used in place of lubricant, fingers slick as they sought out the tight ring of his sphincter. Ignis bit his bottom lip in anticipation, silencing a groan at the intrusion, one finger twisting into him. A thought occurred to him, that he was to old for this, that he was a middle aged man having his virginity taken from him as though he were decades younger. 

Noctis kissed him as he worked him open, stretching him around his fingers, trying to distracting him from the sharp pain that accompanied it. Ignis clung to Noctis's shoulders, trying not to make too much noise as he shifted, waiting for the pain to give way to pleasure.

"Are you okay?" Noctis asked, after he pulled out fingers, having opened Ignis up around three of them. His brow was furrowed, his blue eyes were dark with concern, and Ignis reached a hand up to try and rub out the frown with his thumb.

"I'm fine."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I've been through much, much worse."

Sighing, Noctis let his forehead fall on Ignis's shoulder, and there was a pause as though he wanted to say something but he didn't, instead he kissed his shoulder and lifted his head up again. "You're not hard."

"I'm forty," Ignis said with a small smile. "I need a moment to recover."

"Does it feel good, at least?"

Ignis cupped Noctis's face with both his hands, looking at him intently, grateful for the proximity. He could look deep into those concerned, blue eyes, see the worry on his face, his dark, bruised lips from what felt like endless kisses. "It feels good. It hurts, but it hurts in a good way. It makes me feel alive, like I have something worth feeling pain for." The words expressed a kind of honesty Ignis had been afraid to even express to himself. The children had given him reason to live, but this complete stranger, this man he picked up at the park and brought home with him, this man, whose name he had only known for hours, had given him a reason to enjoy life.

Noctis stared at him for a long moment, blinking slowly and Ignis wondered if he were trying to memorize the expression on his face in that moment, and then Noctis leaned in to kiss him. "Do you think you're ready?" he murmured against his lips.

"Yes."

After another application of ointment, this time by Ignis, his hands sliding up and down the length of Noctis's cock until he was slick and his hands slipped easily down to the base, Noctis carefully positioned himself between Ignis's open legs. The head of his cock pressed lightly against his opening. There was a pause, as though both of them were holding their breaths, almost unsure of this moment, and then Noctis pushed in.

It was almost like the first kiss, that spark of electricity where their bodies met, and Ignis gasped at the sensation, his back arching off the bed. Noctis's hands fell onto his hips, trying to hold him steady. Ignis urged his body to relax, to open up for him, groaning as Noctis pushed deeper into him, stretching him apart. The feeling burned, and he grabbed at the bed, twisting his hands into the sheets. 

Ignis felt breathless unsure of whether it was pleasure or pain he was feeling. His body felt as though it were on fire in a way that was familiar to him, recalling a memory that he had long forgotten. Somehow at the same time it felt nothing like that. It felt warm and comforting as if he had always wanted this but never had the courage to make his own. He found he was panting when he finally felt Noctis's hips against his ass, flush against him, fully seated inside him.

Opening the eyes Ignis did not realize he had squeezed shut, he found Noctis closer than ever before. At this distance, even his terrible eyesight could make out the spots on his skin, the dappling of pores, the barest shadow of a beard threatening to ruin all the hard work he had accomplished hours ago. He couldn't help himself, reaching down to feel, to confirm for himself that Noctis was buried inside him. 

At some point Ignis had even wrapped his legs around his waist, though he had been completely unaware of that. 

Noctis reached between their bodies and grabbed at Ignis's half hard cock, giving it a few pulls. He sounded just as breathless, as if straining to keep from moving, to keep from coming. 

Ignis slid his hands back into Noctis's hair, petting him, pulling him in for another kiss as he found the courage to roll his hips. "Move," he rasped against his lips.

Noctis breathed out what sounded like an immense sigh of relief and obliged. At first he moved slowly, purposeful as he pulled his hips back and then cautious as he pushed back in, and the thoughtfulness of the movements made Ignis laugh, and he bit down gently on Noctis's bottom lip urging him to move faster.

There was pause and then Noctis managed a chuckle in return, between his heavy breaths and then he started to move, pulling out faster and then shoving in harder. The made it hard for Ignis to breathe, startled by the sensation, sharp and slightly painful at first, but as Noctis found a rhythm, hips pumping, he felt that hard, hot cock slide across his prostate with each motion, sending shivers of pleasure throughout his body that started out small and seemed to grow exponentially like a tidal wave.

"Oh gods...!" Ignis gasped, head falling back, hips lifting off the mattress, meeting Noctis's movements. He tightened his legs around him. 

Noctis's forehead fell on Ignis's shoulder again,as if grounding himself as he picked up speed and strength. He was panting, gasping, one hand stroking Ignis's cock, fully hard and hot in his grip, in time with his motions. "Ig-- Iggy---"

For a moment their bodies moved as one, existed as one. Ignis could hardly tell where he ended and Noctis began, feeling him against him, inside him, his arms and legs holding Noctis as close as he could as he was drilled achingly hard into the mattress. He could not tell the difference in the sounds of panting filling the room, could not tell if one guttural moan was his own or Noctis's. He dug his fingers into Noctis's back as he was dragged towards a second climax of that night.

Ignis felt Noctis buck, felt his rhythm falter. He swore he heard the sound of him warning that he was going to come, that he needed to pull out, but Ignis wouldn't let him, holding him tighter against himself. "I want to feel you come," he gasped, echoing the words that Noctis had uttered earlier.

Just as they had done to him earlier, they did to Noctis and he felt the man's groan through his entire body, felt Noctis's muscles tense on on top of him, felt them shift beneath his skin. He felt Noctis's cock pulsate and throb inside him, felt himself filling with heat. He felt his own breath hitch, and then he was moaning as his body snapped like a rubber band and he came, the climax washing over him, wave crashing ashore. 

For the briefest moment, time stopped. It was just them existing in that singular moment, that immediate high after orgasm, every nerve in their body buzzing from release, incredibly sensitive and oblivious at the same time. Ignis was completely aware of Noctis then, aware of all of him, of this man ontop of him, inside of him, around him, surrounding him. He knew shouldn't know anything about Noctis, but he didn't need to know anything about him because somewhere deep in his core he knew everything about him.

Their lips met again, and they kissed as they came down from their singular climax, a decrescendo of sensations. 

Ignis felt blissfully spent, body tired in a way he couldn't even begin to describe, mentally fatigued in different way than the past several several years. Peaceful was the closest he could think of and even then it was wrong.

_Whole_ would have been the right word, if he hadn't fallen asleep before it could occur to him.


	7. The Discovery

Ignis woke up again wrapped and entangled around a warm body. It took him a moment to recall where he was, what had happened, but the tickle soft hair against his nose made it easier. He realized as he let himself wake slowly, eyes not yet ready for the day, that he was clean despite the mess they had made during the night. He was even clean inside, and he wondered how dead to the world he must have been for Noctis to have been able to care for him in that way without him waking. He felt his hand in Noctis's, felt a finger tracing along his skin.

He cracked open his good eye, and saw dark hair slightly obscuring his vision, but he could see enough to recognize that Noctis was very much awake, and was holding his scarred hand, tracing the complex web where fresh, unharmed skin met gnarled flesh. He watched Noctis take that hand and pull it towards him, felt him press an impossibly soft kiss against his palm, almost apologetic in it's gesture.

Ignis shifted, in a deliberately slow fashion to make it seem as though he were just waking, as if he hadn't caught Noctis doing what he had been doing. The judgement had been correct because Noctis let go of his hand as soon as he felt Ignis move.

After a pause Ignis pressed a kiss to the top of his head, burying his nose and his lips in the soft black hair. "You cleaned up?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Yeah, well, you like... passed out. You were a total goner." Noctis sounded amused.

"I haven't slept that well in decades, I think..."

"Me too."

Noctis rolled around in Ignis's arms, turning to look at him. He was smiling, his cheeks were pink. He already looked healthier today than he had when Ignis brought him home several hours earlier. "Coffee?" he asked, with an expectant look on his face.

"Yes, I do believe that sounds like a good idea." Ignis slowly unwrapped himself from around Noctis. He was still wearing his shirt, despite the other man completely naked in his bed. It wasn't stained, but it had a stiff quality to certain spots that made it obvious that Noctis had tried his best to clean it while he had been asleep. He appreciated the gesture. 

Ignis found his pants and then navigated his apartment slowly, well aware of the ache that he felt in his back and between his legs. He didn't want to let that stop him though. He heard Noctis following him, padding barefoot after him through the apartment. They parted ways in the living room, he went to the kitchen and he heard Noctis beeline it towards the window.

"Wow, look at all that snow."

Ignis had a moment as he poured hot water over the filter, watching the coffee drain slowly into his mug, trying to process what Noctis was saying. Snow, yes, but how was he seeing-- and it occurred to him and he lowered the kettle in a rush, to see Noctis, naked as can be, standing in front of the window, curtain pushed aside, looking down into the white streets below.

"Noct, cover your shame!"

Noctis dropped the curtain quickly, like a small child who had been caught doing something he shouldn't. He turned to look at Ignis, a sheepish smile on his lips. "Sorry."

"I gave you clothes last night, the least you could do is wear them." Ignis watched Noctis's blurry shape scamper off towards the bedroom, and the sight of it filled him with such fondness that he couldn't muster up the strength to be frustrated at his naiveté. He returned to the kitchen and resumed pouring his coffee. While he waited, he checked his phone, which he had left in the kitchen last night. There were a series of text messages waiting for him, blinking up at him expectantly.

The font on his phone was set abnormally large on purpose so he could read them without his glasses if he needed to.

The sender was Gladio.

[YOUR LIGHTS ARE ON.]

All caps. He was yelling on purpose.

[WHY ARE YOUR LIGHTS ON]

No punctuation. He was emotional. 

[IGNIS STUPEO SCIENTIA YOU RESPOND THIS INSTAT]

Full name and a typo. He was very emotional.

[Your lights are out now. I'm just going to assume that, given your skills, you murdered whoever had invaded your apartment and you have disposed of the body without a trace.]

Ignis sighed. Gladio was the most emotional person he had ever met. He set the kettle down and quickly wrote him a response.

[I'm fine. Incidentally I had turned the lights on to look for this very phone which I had mislaid, which should satisfactorily explain why I was unable to respond to your childish messages.]

A moment later: [OK, GLAD U R SAFE.]

Short hand. He was busy.

Ignis had heard Noctis approach while he was perusing his messages, and been well aware of him standing behind him shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wondered if the man had been contemplating something, weighing his options and when Noctis wrapped his arms around him, hugging him, he got his answer.

Sighing reluctantly, Ignis pat one of the hands across his chest. "How do you like your coffee?"

"Milk, no sugar."

The preference was easy enough to satisfy, and he let Noctis take care of the proportions. He was a stickler when it came to coffee so he assumed everyone else would be too. The last thing anyone needed was to be disappointed because someone else over poured their milk by a milliliter.

Mugs of coffee in hand and Noctis dressed, they walked back to the window together, looking down at the streets. A plow drove by, pushing aside the snow onto the sidewalk. He would have a difficult time walking to the citadel in this weather. It seemed like a good excuse to stay in for once.

Ignis never had reason to linger in his apartment. He kept himself busy, there was nothing for him in that apartment, it was sparse and quiet and empty and he kept the temperature low and the lights off. He wasn't welcoming to other people, and his apartment reflected that. 

In a single night all that changed. It was warmer, louder, and even with the lights off it felt more brightly lit. There was someone there with him, someone he welcomed into his home with open arms, someone he let sleep in his bed, someone he let sleep with him. He spent the day with Noctis, on the couch with him in his arms. He let Noctis play with his phone, who told him about a game he used to play with his friends. Ignis remarked that he played the same one, around a campfire, idling away the time when neither himself nor Gladio nor Prompto were able to sleep.

Noctis wondered, out loud, that maybe they had played together at one point or another, after all _King's Knight_ was a communal game, multiplayer and designed for teamwork.

Ignis responded that it would have been impossible because the three of them often played over local connections, the service beyond Insomnia being rather unreliable.

"If you say so." Noctis said the words as if he knew something that Ignis didn't, as if he had a sly little secret that he was not willing to share.

At one point in the early afternoon, Noctis turned in his arms and they kissed until their lips were swollen and bruised and their bodies were aroused and hot and eager for more. Noctis had somehow, in the distraction of their mouths, maneuvered himself to be sitting onto of Ignis, straddling him, arms draped over his shoulders, fingers twisting in his hair. His lips curled into a satisfied, cat like smile before he licked Ignis's bottom lip. 

It would have been silly to not understand what Noctis wanted. 

Igins obliged, just as eager, just as willing, dragging Noctis in for another kiss. "Okay, let me go make lunch."

"Wait... What?"

"That's what you want, right? Food?" Ignis said it all with a bemused expression. He was happy and willing to tease.

Noctis pouted. "Well I mean, yeah, but..."

"Or were you hoping for something a little more indulgent?" Ignis heard Noctis's stomach rumble in response, and he gently ruffled his soft black hair. "Clearly your stomach disagrees with you."

It look a little more convincing before Noctis finally climbed off the couch and followed Ignis into the kitchen. He mentioned that one of his favorite foods was simply a plate of chips, deep fried until very crispy and served with nothing else. Ignis balked at description, and requested that perhaps he could allow him to prepare some fish to accompany those chips.

"I love fish," Noctis said with a nostalgic air to his voice. "I also love to fish. I haven't done it in years, though."

Ignis's brow furrowed slightly. He recalled hanging by pods, lakes, rivers, any available body of water with or without a pier. He recalled waiting as someone fished for hours on end. It couldn't have been Prompto, he did not have the patience, but perhaps it had been Gladio. Ignis shook his head, trying to shake off the unease that accompanied the memory, as though putting Gladio in that place felt wrong, like a puzzle piece forced to fit.

"Perhaps I could accompany you sometime. I am not a fan myself, but I do enjoy watching."

Ignis watched the way Noctis's lips quirked into a small, almost sad, smile. "That sounds nice, yeah."

The late lunch was filling and comforting, and they dozed off on the couch together, wrapped up in each other's arms, Noctis stretched out on top of Ignis, arms around his waist, cheek against his chest. He wasn't accustomed to being so lethargic, nor was he used to gettting so much rest during a singular day, but he justified it, telling himself that he deserved it, that his body still ached from the night before.

Ignis awoke eventually, neck sore from his position on the couch. Noctis was still fast asleep in his arms, snoring softly, a small puddle of drool on his shirt. It was endearing. He brushed a hand through Noctis's dark hair, a gesture that got him to groan and snuggle up tighter against him. 

"Noctis, I have to pee."

He received another groan and Noctis buried his face, rubbing it against his shirt.

"Please, my bladder is at it's maximum capacity." Ignis shoved at the man, fast asleep on his chest, a few times until he finally sat up, blinking and then turning over to sleep facing the other side of the couch.

Ignis hurried to his feet and rushed to the bathroom to relieve himself. He hadn't felt that kind of urgency in quite a long time, and when he walked slowly back to the living room, his hand following the path of the wall, his apartment dark now that the sun had set. He can't quite see Noctis, perhaps making out the lump of him on his couch but he can hear him, breathing softly, snoring lightly, and he approached him slowly and urged him to move to the bed.

In a muffled, half sleepy voice Noctis promised to only do so if Ignis joined him, and it was impossibly difficult for Ignis to refuse, so he obliged.

When the two of them hit the bed, Noctis climbed on top of him, pinning him to the mattress, kissing him as though he had spent the entire day asleep conserving his energy for this moment. Ignis didn't mind. He kissed him back as they came together, bodies tangling in the sheets.

Ignis woke up the next morning to the sound of his phone making a jangly tune from the living room. He blinked, trying to remember where he was. He had a strange sensation of thinking he was in his twenties all over again, sleeping in a hotel with a familiar warm body cuddled up against him. He recalled very quickly that he was in his apartment, in his bed, with the stranger he had picked up off the street, the dark haired stray named Noctis.

When he shifted to move out of the bed, Noctis clung to him, making a frustrated sound, which made Ignis sigh affectionately, leaning over to kiss his temple as he worked himself free from his grasp, stronger than his thin form made him out to be.

The phone listed two missed calls, and before Ignis could check who they were from, it rang again. He picked it up immediately.

"Hey, Iggy! I'm on my way, you need a ride today?" It was Prompto, cheerful as always.

Ignis made a reluctant sound. "How are the streets?"

"Totally clear! You could probably walk there, but it's still super cold."

Ignis was going to have a very difficult time to come up with an excuse to stay in with Noctis for a second day. He moved towards the window, looking down at the cleared streets, phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. "You may need to wait a moment, I'm not quite ready."

At some point during the conversation, Ignis had been aware of movement from his bedroom, the sounds of barefoot steps across the wooden floor of his apartment and then Noctis was suddenly wrapping himself around him from behind, kissing his neck. It made his knees weak.

"You? Ignis Stupeo Scientia, not ready? Who are you?"

Noctis's hands were sliding down, palming him through his boxers, forcing Ignis to bite back a groan. 

"I'm not quite ready," Ignis somehow managed, "There's a difference."

"Okay, if you say so. I'll be waiting."

Ignis had never hung up a phone call so quickly as Noctis turned him around, pushed him up against the cold glass of the window and kissed him. It was quickly becoming increasingly more difficult to resume his responsibilities, and he broke away from the kiss with a gasp, pushing at Noctis's shoulders. "Wait, I... I have work. I need to get ready."

"We can do it in the shower," Noctis offered helpfully.

Ignis had a very difficult time arguing with that.

The two of them got rather distracted in the shower, at first getting more filthy than clean and nearly forgetting what the original intent had been. Eventually Ignis was stumbling out, towel wrapped around his middle, slightly frantic as he tried to get his things ready for the day.

Noctis was remarkably helpful. He picked out clothes for Ignis to wear with surprising ease, as though he already knew the sorts of outfits he preferred to wear while helping out at the Citadel. There was not enough time to dry or style Ignis's hair, so he wore it down, damp, bangs hanging over his glasses, when the doorbell to his apartment rang. There were four missed calls from Prompto and then a message saying, "I'm coming up."

Ignis opened the door, face slightly flushed. "Prompto!" he greeted, a little breathless.

There was enough distance between them that he could not quite make out the quick flickering of Prompto's eyes as he glanced over Ignis's shoulder, nor could he make out the slight hesitation on Prompto's face before it bloomed into an immense grin.

"Hey Iggy, you ready? C'mon. Let's get the lead out."

Ignis had wanted to kiss Noctis goodbye, but he didn't, instead grabbing the bag he kept by the door, and stepped out, leaving his keys on purpose as he shut the door behind them. "My apologies, I slept in."

Prompto allowed Ignis to put several feet between them and the apartment before leaning in conspiratorially, "Who was that?"

"Who--?"

"The naked guy in your apartment, duh?"

Ignis felt his face turn red, cheeks hot. "He-- No one."

"Right, so I was imagining the naked guy who was staring at you like you meant the world to him?"

Ignis paused mid stride and turned to look at his dear old friend. "He's just... he needed a place to stay for a little while and..." He could see Prompto nodding incredulously at his explanation. "Please don't make a big deal about this."

"I won't, I won't. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't trust Prompto if I were you, Ignis.........


	8. The Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS IT IS SO FREAKING COLD HERE. It feels like I'm living in the Niflheim outlands. BRRR I hope you guys are warmer than I am!

Prompto may have promised not to make a big deal about it, but he certainly didn't promise to not tell Iris, who proceeded to tell everyone else. That, combined with the rumor Gladio had started thanks to his lights being on that one night, Ignis found himself suddenly the center of attention from all the Crownguards and anyone else who worked in the Citadel that felt comfortable enough to approach him.

The idea of Ignis having any sort of company, much less company of the romantic and/or sexual nature had been impossible to consider. He was distant. He tended to fend off unwanted advances as much as possible. He never invited anyone back to his apartment, much less had anyone spend the night in his apartment.

His slightly disheveled appearance did not help the rumor mill that day either.

Gladio nearly attacked him at lunch, hands pounding down on the desk he was working on when he approached. "What the ever loving fuck, Ignis."

Ignis had learned, over the many, many long years of their friendship, to ignore Gladio's outbursts and he continued to quietly work on the finances in front of him. 

"You are not getting out of this one, buddy." Gladio grabbed a chair and sat across from him, hands sliding over the papers, making it impossible for Ignis to continue working. "Who, what, where, when?"

Slowly, deliberately so, Ignis looked up at him, eyebrows raising. "I'm sorry, what are you asking?"

"Who is he? And why didn't you tell me you were into guys? I've been introducing you to all those girls..."

Ignis sighed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "It had nothing to do with male or female, Gladio. I just wasn't interested."

"Well, the naked guy in your apartment is telling me you were interested."

"He's...." Ignis found himself trailing off, unsure of how to even describe what the man in his apartment is. He didn't quite have words for it, especially since Gladio did not understand the depths of that emptiness he felt inside him. To simply describe Noctis as filling that void would have been meaningless. "... Special," was what he came up with in the end.

Gladio sighed and leaned back in the chair, arms folding over his chest. "Special?" he echoed, eyebrow raised. "What do you mean, special?"

"Just... Special. I don't know, Gladio. I can't describe it."

"How long have you known him? Where did you meet? When did you two start dating?"

Ignis held up his hands, stopping him. He couldn't field those questions without creating more questions. He didn't want to answer them because if he was forced to, he would be forced to think of how he barely knows the man that he left in his apartment; the man that he slept with without a second thought; the man he let coax him into spending the whole day in bed; the man he felt as though he's known a lifetime when he barely knows who he really is. "I am not in the mood to answer these questions, I'm sorry."

"I'm just worried about you. I'm always worried about you. I hate that you spend so much time alone, and I also hate that you don't try to do something about it until I hear about you bringing home a complete stranger? What if he hurts you? What if he's trying to get close to you to get close to the Crownsguard and to Cor? What if he's...."

"Evil? Is that what you're trying to say? What if he's a bad guy?"

"Yes. Obviously."

"I know that you won't believe me if I tell you that I trust him, but I do. I trust him." Ignis paused. "Also your daughter seems to like him well enough."

"What!?"

"She's met him before. Her and Helian, and it took quite a bit of convincing to stop them from reaching out to him before I even knew who he was."

"The more you talk, Ignis, the more confused I become." Gladio was frowning, but also had an expression on his face that resembled fondness, as though he knew that he couldn't convince Ignis, that he would always, somehow, be one step behind him when it came to Ignis's life. He let out a long, heavy sigh and moved to his feet. "But I trust you and I trust her, and I swear to the gods, Ignis, if she gets hurt, or you gets hurt, that guy is going to die. Slow and painfully, might I add."

Ignis watched Gladio grind his fist into his hand, and shook his head.

Prompto was much more subtle and much less subtle at the exact same time. Instead of ambushing him and demanding answers, he appeared several times over the course of the day, curious. He would slip a question about the man into their short conversations, and Ignis managed to navigate his way around them, never quite giving Prompto the satisfaction. Eventually, however, he did offer Prompto one piece of crucial information as they stood outside the apartment building, after a long day of work.

"Your son calls him 'King'"

"He's 'The King'!?" Prompto balked. "Helian talks about him all the time!"

"I imagined he would."

"I thought he was just an imaginary friend... Why is his name King?"

Ignis laughed and shook his head. "His name isn't King. Helian just calls him that for some inexplicable reason. He said he just... looks like one, I suppose. But he is very real, you've now seen him with your own eyes."

Prompto was thoughtful for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and then he smacked Ignis in the shoulder. "I got an idea! Why don't you invite that guy to Candlenights?"

"What?"

"You can introduce him to everyone and we can all interrogate him."

"That's even less of a reason to invite him."

"Gladio said you think he's special. When you talk about him, I can see it in your face. You don't know it, but you light up when you talk about him. He's special to you, and so he should be special to me. And Gladio. And Iris. And everyone else. I just want to know who managed to break through that icy shell of yours. He's probably really cool." Prompto paused and then snorted at his unintentional joke. "I bet I'd be best friends with him."

Prompto reached his arms out and hugged Ignis, wrapping him up in his strong arms, giving him a squeeze. "But I swear to the gods, if he hurts you, he's gonna die."

"Gladio said the same thing," Ignis said with a sigh, endeared to his friends.

"Okay, then we'll both team up and kill him." Prompto smacked Ignis on the back and then let go of him.

"You two are impossible."

And as far as Ignis was concerned, he didn't even know if Noctis would still be there as he headed up the stairs to his apartment, after all the windows had been dark. It looked empty. He was actually filled with a sense of dread to think that he would enter into an empty, lonely space. He paused at the door.

Ignis had left the keys behind that morning. There was a fifty percent chance that the door would be locked and he would be stranded. He hesitated and then reached for the knob. It turned, thankfully, and he pushed into his dark apartment.

Noctis was sitting on the couch, illuminated by a flashlight, as he perused a photo album on the coffee table. He looked up when the door opened, and he dropped the light, hurrying to Ignis and throwing his arms around him, hugging him. "Welcome home," he said.

Ignis was slightly shocked but mostly relieved, and he hugged him back, resting his cheek against Noctis's soft hair. "You're still here."

"Of course I'm still here. I mean, I went out for a while. I sat in the park, and then I bought some dinner - I borrowed some cash, sorry - and then I came back before dark. The food's kind of cold now, but..."

Ignis cupped Noctis's face with his hands, cradling him, barely able to see him in the darkness of his apartment, and then he leaned in and kissed him. It lingered. It was slow and warm and easy and affectionate and comforting. "Thank you."

Noctis, respectfully, kept the lights off. He figured out how to navigate the space with the flashlight and in the dark if he had to. He insisted that Ignis relax and he'll heat up dinner. It was breaded cutlet with rice and a roasted tomato. It was comforting and slightly spicy. It felt appropriate on a cold night. They ate together, across the table from one another, feet tangling.

After dinner, they curled up on the couch together, with Ignis's arms around Noctis and Noctis carefully fit between his legs, head on his chest.

Noctis was special. Ignis still didn't know that much about him, but he didn't feel as though he had to. He just knew that he was special, that he filled that void inside him that had been eating away at him for nearly a decade, and he filled it easily, without even trying. Ignis stroked his hands through Noctis's hair, petting him affectionately, which rewarded him with a soft, pleased sound.

"Noctis," Ignis began.

"Yeah?" Noctis cuddled himself a little closer against Ignis, rubbing his face against his chest.

"I want to invite you to our Candlenight."

Noctis was quiet for a moment, and then he slowly lifted his head to look at him. "What?"

"The Crownsguard hold a rather intimate celebration each other, in the Citadel, for our loved ones. I want you to come with me. I want to introduce you to everyone." Ignis brushed a strand of hair from Noctis's eyes, despite not being able to see it, he knew it was there.

"Really?" Noctis sounded surprised. Shocked. Excited.

"Really. I think you're... special to me. They should meet you. Come with me. Please."

Noctis made a sound, and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. Ignis could feel his hot breath against his skin. "Yes. Yes. Absolutely. Yes."

Ignis felt relieved, and he breathed out a sigh and murmured his gratitude to Noctis as they kissed, his hands tangling in Noctis's soft hair, one leg wrapping lazily around him. 

"Iggy?" Noctis said the nickname between kisses, whispering it against his skin, more reserved than usual.

"Hm?"

"I want to tell you something." Noctis broke away from the kiss, and Ignis made a reluctant sound as their lips fell apart, but he nodded in agreement, willing to listen.

There was a long pause. It hung, tense, in the air between them and Ignis felt a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, a sense of dread that Noctis seemed to be aware of, one that he tried to soothe by kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I love you," Noctis finally said. "I've loved you since I first saw you. I've loved you for as long as I've known you." He paused and hesitated and pulled back. There was something slightly frantic in his voice, fully aware of the fact that it wasn't normal to say something like that after only knowing each other for several days at most. "You don't have to say it back. I just wanted to get it off my chest. I just... I don't want things to be weird now that I've said it."

Things were a little weird, but for some reason, Ignis was not particularly bothered by it. In fact, he rather enjoyed hearing it. It warmed him. It resonated with him, something deep down inside, as though he had heard those words before spoken to him, not by any one else, but by Noctis. He caresses his cheek with the back of his hand. "I... can't say I feel the same. Not yet. Not now, and I'm very sorry about that," Ignis said, honest with his answer, "But I can say that I know you're special to me, and I want you to stay here with me for as long as you want, and maybe eventually I can return the sentiment."

That answer seemed good enough for Noctis, and he turned his head to kiss the inside of his palm. They were quiet again, but the pause was not tense, it was comforting in its silence, and when Noctis broke the silence, he spoke the words so quietly that Ignis was almost certain they were not intended for him: "That is so much more than I could have hoped for."


	9. Noctis's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay we're closing in on the end now. Welcome to the penultimate chapter where we get a glimpse of what Noctis has been going through. It probably feels very different in terms of style, but I hope you still enjoy it. And thanks as always, for all the amazing comments!

Noctis had been told at a very young that the powers that be had chosen who he would marry. He had also been introduced at that same age to sad young boy with foggy grey eyes like storm clouds and dusty brown hair. At that young age, he had not understood the concept of marriage and so he spent the first five years of knowing Ignis, thinking that he would marry him.

The first time Noctis told Ignis he loved him they were children. He was 7 and completely enamored by his caretaker, who was older, taller, stronger, braver than he would ever be. He said it as he cuddled up against Ignis, hugging him the way one would hug a pillow or a stuffed animal.

The second time Noctis said he loved Ignis, he was fourteen and his caretaker was surprisingly receptive to the confession. At that point he had come to know the meaning of the word marriage, to understand that Luna was his bethrothed, but she was ethereal, a non-entity in his daily life. Ignis was the exact opposite. He was grounded and real and warm and there for him, Ignis smiled softly at him and leaned in, kissing his cheek and thanked him. "You're very important to me, Noctis."

The third and last time Noctis told Ignis he loved him he was eighteen. He had confessed on his day of graduation, offering him the button of his blazer, underneath the swirl of blossoms. He said it from the depths of his heart, opening up to him, all but begging for acceptance. Ignis refused. "You are betrothed to the Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae. It is not my place to have feelings of that nature for you, nor is it my place to accept those feelings." With those words he put distance between them, distance that would remain until the day he died on the throne, run through by the arms of his ancestors.

Noctis had awoken on the throne, blinking blearily into the light. Luna was standing at the end of the dais, staring out beyond the double doors.

"We're alive," she said in a quiet voice. "A gift from the gods."

The words knocked the wind out of him. "What? But..."

"We have been blessed with an opportunity to return to this world. To bring with us hope." Luna turned to him. She was smiling, luminous. This was her opportunity to serve Eos as herself and not as the oracle. Noctis thought she looked more beautiful and more alive in that moment than he ever remembered seeing her. 

Noctis lifted himself from the throne and walked down the stairs to join Luna. He felt fairly unsteady, as if still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was alive. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. 

"What are you going to do?" Luna asked in soft voice.

"I don't know," Noctis responded, as honestly as possible. He didn't know. He had spent those ten years in the crystal accepting his ultimate fate, and suddenly he was alive and the world was bright. He wanted to run to his friends, wanted to find them and tell them he was alive. It seemed like the right thing to do, but when they emerged from the Citadel, they found a world where no one knew who they were, a world where they had no memory that either Lunafreya or Noctis had ever existed. 

They saw Dustin first, who was surveying the land, making meticulous notes as he often did. He looked straight through Noctis as though he didn't exist. As though he were a complete stranger who was not worth acknowledgment. 

It was the same with Monica, who was serving food to the Glaives who had gathered to help rebuild Insomnia.

Most heartbreaking of all was when they found Noctis's three dearest friends. Luna had called out to them experimentally, and Gladio treated them both with respect and informed them that the Citadel was under construction but he appreciated that they were willing to come out to thank the gods that had sacrificed themselves to purge the world of the Starscourge.

Prompto was kind enough to direct them to a small shop that was giving away pieces of the Citadel to commemorate the return of the Light. 

Ignis did not respond at all. He did not acknowledge either of them, and it took everything in Noctis's power to not reach out to him, to not touch him.

"Some gift," Noctis had found himself muttering, childish, annoyed, angry even. 

Luna patiently suggested that perhaps they travel to Tenebrae, to see the state of her own nation. Noctis agreed because there was nothing for him here, not anymore. 

When the two of them left boundaries of the city, they discovered that there was more to their return than simply being gifted a second chance. Their footsteps brought life to Eos, literally. The ground, which had grown dry and brown and shriveled up from lack of light, blossomed beneath their feet. Grass grew, flowers bloomed, crops flourished.

The two of them together decided that they would walk across the landscape, walk between Insomnia and Tenebrae and bring the life with them. 

So they walked. They traversed the land, walking forward into brown and dust and left behind green. The campsites that Noctis had used on his travel with his friends no longer required the same sort of protection, but when they spent their nights there, Noctis saw too it that they remained lush and surrounded by wild crops that could be used to make the same sort of delicious meals Ignis used to make them.

On their journey they met people, more than occasionally people Noctis had crossed paths with on several occasions. They, like the people in Insomnia, did not recognize him. They continued to mourn the loss of Regis, some lamenting the misfortune that he did not leave behind an heir. Still, those people, kind enough to offer them shelter and food if they needed it, were given a gift as they left, a gift of health and wellness and good fortune in love and family. It was what people needed in these trying times of recovery.

Niflheim was a tragedy. There was barely anything left of it. The empire had long since crumbled and the landscape had been conquered by ice.

Their footsteps could not quite reach the land beneath, though the raging storm ebbed as they crossed the threshold. There were a few people that remained, that somehow survived through the snow and the darkness, hardened people who once served in the army before they were exiled in favor of their magitek soldiers. They were bitter, but easily thawed by Luna's kindness.

Noctis admired that about her. 

They offered them safe passage through the snow, though they dare not approach the capital city. Luna had one request, to be brought to the corpse of the Glacian.

She was mostly buried now, compared to when Noctis passed her the first time on that train. Luna approached her, the corpse of the giantess who served her her entire life. Noctis stood back, he was not technically a part of this exchange. The moment was intimate, as Luna rested her forehead against Shiva's arm, and whispered a silent prayer of gratitude.

Noctis did not know, at first, what Luna was waiting for, until the chill grew worse and the calm wind began to whip around them. He protected his face as best as he could, and watched as the giantess started to move, emerging from the ice and the snow. An astral resurrected. 

Shiva reassured them, that with her resurrection, the landscape will thaw and life will eventually return to Niflheim. She left them in the human form of Gentiana, disappearing in a flurry of snow and Noctis and Luna felt momentarily warmed, safe and protected enough to cross through Gralea and bring with them vines and ivy and green that slowly crept over the remains of its technology, someday creating a home safe for people to thrive.

When they finally arrived in Tenebrae, years had passed and they settled there. The nation seemed to have remained somewhat protected, still somewhat green, and still somewhat lush with life, but it was shadow, like most of the Eos, of what it once was. This was where Luna felt most comfortable.

The citizens did not recognize her, but they welcomed her with open arms. She brought with her healing and hope. They could see the way she made the flora bloom, and she touched everyone. They called her their Guardian Angel. 

Like what the Crownsguard were doing for the Citadel back in Insomnia, the retainers of the Nox Fleuret family did their best to maintain and to rebuild Fenestala Manor.

Even without knowing her true identity, they invited them to say at the Manor, which had become a home for the weary, the wounded and those who had lost their home while the world suffered in the darkness. 

Luna flourished here, always happy, aways willing to help those around her. The people here, naturally, loved her, gravitated towards her. 

Noctis, on the other hand, had begun to wilt. He was constantly in Luna's company, so he was never truly alone, but he longed for the companionship that remained by his side for years. He missed his home. He missed his friends. He felt empty inside, knowing that they were alive and safe and he had no part of it. They lived in a world where he never existed, but he wanted to see them. He wanted to know that they were safe and well and whole happy even without him.

One day Luna approached him, and kissed him softly on the cheek. They were not technically married, they did not need to be. The world around them did not require the same sort of political nonsense as the world they had left behind. They had their autonomy, they could live and breathe separately.

They loved each other, but in a different way from one expected of marriage.

Their love transcended existence: a deep unspoken bond that would continue to exist even with the miles between them.

"Go home," Luna whispered in his ear, squeezing his hands. "Go back to place you came from. To your loved ones."

"They don't know me. I never existed to them."

"Perhaps this is your opportunity to get to know them anew? To be a part of their lives without being their king?"

Noctis scoffed at the idea, but he didn't hate it. 

They kissed goodbye, and Noctis left that night.

The years had been good to Insomnia. They had benefit from the growth of the land around them, and they seemed to have rebuild with some ease. Many people who had lived outside the city had moved into the city, many relocated from the crowded Lestallum to Insomnia. It was bustling in a good way.

It filled Noctis with a kind of warmth and happiness.

He did not fit in as easily as Luna had. He had no home, though Insomnia had a few homeless shelters that he spent a few nights in. He ate the food they offered, and took advantage of the roaming food trucks intended to provide for those who did not yet have enough. Only enough to keep himself going, not enough to deprive others of the food they deserved.

The park became Noctis's favorite place. He stayed there happily, because he could see Citadel from there, at the end of the central path, a statue of his father standing proudly in the center. He recognized Gladio's form easily, broad shouldered and strong. He strode up the steps as though he owned the place. Prompto was slightly less easy to identify if it hadn't been for his head of blond, blond hair. He was thicker now than when he had known him, but he was still the same, with a spring in his step.

Noctis recognized Dustin and Monica and Cor. He recognized Iris and Cidney. He saw Glaives entering and leaving the Citadel. He saw people he didn't recognize, people who had found jobs in the Citadel, people who were seeking help from the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive.

The one person Noctis did not see was the one person he had been hoping to see. Ignis was absent from the Citadel. No matter how much he sat there watching, he never saw him.

Until one day, as he walked across the green grass of the park, he saw him. Tall, handsome, walking without assist, accompanied by an energetic young boy. Ignis looked like a father, and Noctis should not have been surprised. It suited him. He felt a pang of anguish in his chest at the thought that someone had managed to make Ignis fall in love with them, to make Ignis start a family with them.

He had been so distracted by the thought, he hadn't realized that the boy was running straight at him, and he bumped into him, knocking the boy into the grass and he heard Ignis calling out the boy's name in a way that reminded him of all those times Ignis had called out his name in concern.

Noctis felt like a monster of course, especially with the way Ignis scolded him and spoke him as though he were a stranger, but then the boy was inviting him to lunch, and he was eating one of Ignis's sandwiches for the first time in nearly two decades.

"It tastes like home," he said, trying so hard not to cry and Ignis, kind as ever, despite his short temper, gave him two sandwiches.

He treasured them, ate them slowly over the course of a day and a half. He wished they could have lasted forever. 

Noctis had not expected to see Ignis again, but he did, after being ambushed by the same small boy who insisted on feeding him carrots. This time Ignis had two children with him, and same as before Noctis was filled with a sense of despair. 

But unlike those who had been born before the light had returned, unlike those who should have remembered him, the children seemed to recognize him. They approached him with familiarity, they seemed to love him. It filled Noctis with some joy to think that they loved him unconditionally, that perhaps their childlike wonder left them with the open mind to know who he really was.

The boy called him 'King'.

And Noctis started to notice Ignis with recurring frequency, seeing him in the park, often times with the children, sometimes alone, jogging at night, navigating the park with expertise, as if he had the paths memorized. Seeing Ignis made his chest ache, that the man who had been by his side his entire life had no idea who he was, that the man he had loved more than anyone else lived a life where he did not exist. 

Then came the day Ignis sat with him, spoke to him, asked his name. His heart raced when Ignis called him 'Noct' but it proved to be a slip of the tongue more than anything else. There was care there, however. Classic Ignis, watching out for him, warning him to go home before it got too cold. 

Noctis had no home to go to and somehow Ignis seemed to know this, appearing at night, calling out to him and inviting him into his home. The hand extended out to him took his breath away, and he held onto him, unable to help intertwining their fingers. It felt right, nostalgic, reunited.

Still Ignis did not remember him. 

Kissing Ignis had been a mistake. Noctis hadn't done it on purpose, he couldn't help himself. He felt loved in that moment, meticulously cared for the way Ignis used to care for him. He had spent many years wishing he could kiss him, so many years longing for him, always buffered with the excuse that he is king. Without that excuse, Ignis kissed him back, and it was glorious. It was all he ever wanted.

Then came the nightmare. 

Noctis dreamed off that final battle countless times. He continued to see Ardyn at night, looming over him, threatening him, his loved ones. That night he dreamed of finding Ignis dead, laid out on the ground, body burned, wearing the ring of Lucis. He dreamed of lashing out at Ardyn, at Gladio, at Prompto, blaming them, blaming anyone for not being able to protect the man who had been by his side as long as he could remember.

When he opened his eyes and saw Ignis there, he clung to him, forgetting that as far as he was concerned, he was a complete stranger to him. He held onto him, he sobbed into his chest, he begged him to remember him. Ignis held him patiently, shushing him and petting him in the same way he did when they were kids.

Noctis enjoyed being pampered, but he wanted to return the favor, he wanted the opportunity to care for Ignis in return, so after their bodies came together that morning, after he made love to him in a way he only ever dreamed of: hot and hard enough that Ignis passed out, he cleaned him. Meticulously so. Every inch of Ignis he cleaned, washing off the evidence of their sex, even going so far as to carefully clean him out, after regretfully coming inside. Ignis slept the whole time. He wondered how tired he must have been.

Cautiously, Noctis decided to feel out being affectionate towards Ignis, tasting the life he had wanted when they were younger, a life where he would not be king; a life where he was not engaged to anyone or expected to marry anyone; a life where he could love whomever he wanted and be loved in return. Ignis was surprisingly receptive of it, incredibly pliant with his affections, happy to receive, happy to give.

Noctis feared what would happen if Ignis were to remember the truth.

When Prompto saw him that day, naked in Ignis's apartment, he half hoped he would be called out, that Prompto would recognize him and set everything in motion, that of course his best friend is the one to remember him. Instead Prompto looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes that quickly narrowed conspiratorially and he had an awful feeling that maybe he should have been a little more subtle and a little less naked.

He went to the park that day, same as he had done so many times before, watching the Citadel, knowing that this time Ignis was there. He had an awful, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that his presence in Ignis's apartment was going to get him a lot of attention and that attention would make Ignis consider putting him back out in the streets.

Noctis didn't mind living in the streets persay, but he minded being something Ignis would be ashamed of.

While Noctis was lost in thought, he had been aware of the company that had joined him on the park bench, an excitable young girl with dark hair who was holding herself up by his shoulder.

"Hihi," The girl said with a grin.

She was bigger now than Noctis had last seen her, shooting up like a weed the way toddlers do, but she was definitely the little boy's cousin, Zahra, if he remembered what Ignis had told him correctly. He smiled back at her.

A young man jogged to catch up to them. "Gosh you're fast!"

Noctis looked up at the voice, surprised by the sight. Ten years had made him fairly difficult to recognize, but he had a distinct scar on his cheek that he remembered from when that same young man pulled over on the side of the road to give him a ride.

"Sorry sir," Talcott said, slightly breathless as he picked Zahra up off the bench and put her back down on the ground. "I'm not used to babysitting."

Noctis shook his head. "That's okay, we're friends, aren't we?" He smiled down at the little girl, holding his hand up and waving her. She waved back, fingers opening and closing in greeting. When he looked back up, he noticed Talcott staring at him.

"Sorry, sir, have we met before? I mean, you know her and you look really familiar..."

As much as Noctis wanted to say yes, he knew that he couldn't. "No, I don't think so," he managed, "I've met her in the park before, with her cousin. I think it was with their Uncle."

"Oh, he's not really their uncle, I mean, I suppose, blood aside, he's as good as their uncle. Those three used to be as thick as thieves back in the day, closer than brothers, though honestly they don't really know why they just---" And Talcott paused. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I just feel comfortable around you for some reason."

Noctis shrugged, as Zahra climbed back onto the bench and into his lap, where she made herself cozy, babbling in words only she could understand. She was heavy. She was going to be big like her father. "They say I have one of those faces."

"I guess you do." Talcott shifted the weight from one foot to the other, arms crossing over his chest in a motion that looked remarkably similar to Ignis. He wondered if they had spent quite a bit of time together during the darkness and beyond. "She really does seem to like you."

Noctis idled for a while in the park, entertaining Zahra and talking a bit with Talcott, surprised with how conversational he was, inexplicably comfortable in his presence in the way the children were. When they left he wished them a happy holiday and even let Zahra kiss him on the cheek.

Afterwards, he took the money he had borrowed from Ignis and bought them both dinner - Ignis's favorite cutlet and tomato - before heading back to the apartment. The last several days had changed a lot for him. He wondered if this was similar to how Luna felt when she arrived in Tenebrae and everyone welcomed her with open arms. Even without them knowing who she was, she still had a place to belong.

Being with Ignis, having a roof over his head, talking easily and idly with Talcott, entertaining Zahra, purchasing a meal and bringing it home... It felt normal, in a way he never actually had the opportunity to experience. He had always been Prince Noctis, no matter how hard his father tried to give him a normal life.

He was starting to recognize happiness again, and that night, curled up together on the couch, Noctis told Ignis he loved him for a fourth time.


	10. Candlenights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it you guys. Last chapter. Thanks so much for reading and commenting and enjoying and hopefully this last chapter is just as good as the first. I don't often write things (much less finish them) as quickly as I wrote this one, which makes this fic really special to me. Enjoy!

_I've loved you for as long as I've known you._

Ignis wheeled the words around in his head as he lay in bed, curled up around Noctis. He hadn't had a single nightmare since he had begun sharing his bed, despite how deep and how comfortable his nights had been. He intertwined their fingers, holding onto him, his scarred hand a sharp contrast to Noctis's pale one. He kissed the side of his head and he heard Noctis hum sleepily. 

He felt bad that he couldn't respond the same way. He didn't quite have a grasp on the word love, he never experienced it, so he wasn't certain if he'd ever know. But Noctis had poured his heart out to him, and he wanted so badly to return the sentiment. Somewhere deep down inside of him he felt that if he did, he would be betraying someone. Someone important.

"You're thinking so hard I can hear you," Noctis muttered sleepily.

Ignis tried to laugh it off. "Sorry. I was imagining what everyone would say when I bring you to meet them. Everyone, this is the stray cat I found at the park and brought home with me. I have no idea if he's had any of his shots nor do I know if he's been fixed."

Noctis rolled around in his arms. He was smirking. He leaned in and bit Ignis's shoulder. "You know I haven't been fixed."

Ignis groaned, his hands moving to grab Noctis's rear, pulling him closer. "You're right. I do know that."

They crushed their mouths together, kissing deeply, hungry. Any sleepiness either of them had felt gone in favor of seeking each other out. 

Ignis let Noctis undress him. At first he had been apprehensive of Noctis seeing his scars, but now he didn't mind. He didn't mind it when the shirt would come off and Noctis would kiss every inch of that gnarled, unpleasant flesh from an incident he could not remember occurring. He slid his fingers through Noctis's hair, twisting into the longish strands as he arched his body up off the mattress, responding as Noctis's mouth found his cock. He bit his fist to silence his moans.

Noctis collapsed onto of him. He was grinning, cat-like and pleased with himself. Ignis shook his head at him, pretending to be annoyed by him, despite the affection rolling off of him in waves. When Noctis kissed him, he tasted like come.

The two of them fell into a comfortable pattern, with Ignis going to work at the Citadel as the holiday approached and Noctis spending the days outside exploring the city, seeing the citizens, performing small tasks and side jobs for them. Ignis thought it was kind cute of him, thoughtful of him. It reminded him of when he and the other two traveled across Lucis to Altissia and supplemented their funds by working for the people they met on the way.

Ignis was happy to know that Noctis was doing more than just sitting in the park.

On the day of the celebration, Ignis presented Noctis with the same suit he had been wearing when they first met, when he brought Noctis back to the apartment, cleaned, pressed, ready to wear, hung in a garment bag. 

"That suit," Ignis said, as he watched Noctis undo the zipper, "Is incredibly lavish."

Noctis managed a slight chuckle. "Yeah, it was a gift from my old man."

"He must have been very important to have had a suit of that quality made for you."

"I guess... I guess you could say he was important. He was important to me."

Ignis could see the way Noctis was sliding his fingers over the lapel of the jacket, touching it gently, carefully. He seemed to be approaching the suit with caution in a way that reminded him of the first time he had given Noctis a sandwich. "I'm sorry about your father," was the most Ignis could come up with. He had his suspicions. A lot of lives had been lost during the war with the Empire, during the darkness.

"He died doing what he needed to do. He was a hero."

Ignis wanted to ask. Who was Noctis's father? But he didn't. Somehow he felt it wouldn't be appropriate. "Go on, get dressed."

He watched Noctis strip out of his comfortable clothes, out of the black t-shirt that he had grown rather fond of, and pull on the suit. In the couple weeks they had been together, Noctis had grown from thing, gaunt, starved into a hale and handsome man, thicker, broader shouldered and able to fill out the suit the way he always should have been able to. He looked good.

"What do you think?"

Ignis bit his bottom lip. "I like it."

Noctis held up the tie, still undone as it hung around his neck. "I kind of suck at doing ties."

"Come here." Ignis gestured and Noctis obeyed, stepping close. He carefully did the knot of his tie, a classic Windsor knot, triangular, symmetrical. No matter how many opportunities he had to take care of Noctis, he never tired of it. He loved it. He tugged Noctis closer by the tie and kissed him. 

"Are you sure?" Noctis asked in a hesitant voice, their lips barely parted.

"Am I sure about what?" Ignis put a little more distance between them, enough so he could look at Noctis, brush the hair from his eyes.

"About bringing me with you."

"Even if I didn't want to, you're all anyone talks to me about now. They'd be disappointed if you didn't show up."

"But you want to."

"Of course I want to." Ignis sighed, and he wrapped his arms around Noctis, hugging him close, petting a hand down his back. He felt Noctis cuddle up against him, making himself cozy against his chest as he often did. He was always surprised with how well he fit there, as though he had lay against this spot a thousand times in the past. "We should get going, however."

"Do we have to?"

Ignis laughed and pried Noctis away from him, grinning at him. "After you just asked if I was sure I wanted you to come with me? Of course we have to."

They could have gotten a ride from Prompto, who begged over a series of text messages, obviously eager to meet Noctis before anyone else, but Ignis declined. They both wanted to walk, to take their time to arrive at the Citadel. Noctis grabbed Ignis's hand as they walked, intertwining their fingers.

For a moment they walked in a way that reminded Ignis of when he first picked Noctis off the street, pulling Noctis along with him towards the Citadel. It was if there was a combination of hesitation and habit there. Ignis pulled him closer so they were walking side by side. He looked at Noctis, who's cheeks had turned pink.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm just happy," Noctis said in a low voice. "I mean, really happy. I never thought we'd ever walk like this."

Ignis wanted to ask. He wanted so badly to ask. Sometimes Noctis looked at him as if he'd known him for years, for decades, for longer than that. When Noctis said he loved him, he spoke with words as though he had loved him for years, for decades, for even longer. He wondered what Noctis knew, what he didn't know.

Noctis's steps slowed as they reached the Citadel. He started to lag behind, and then stopped and his hand fell free from Ignis's. "Wait."

Ignis turned to look at him. He was gently illuminated by the streets lights, but the expression on his face was difficult to see because of it. "What's wrong?"

Noctis shook his head. "Nothing, I'm just... I'm just..."

Ignis closed the distance between them, settled his hands gently on Noctis's shoulders. He could feel him trembling. "Are you scared?"

"No. Yes. Maybe." Noctis sighed and took a step to the side, slipping free from Ignis's hands, and he turned his gaze up to the Citadel. "Last time I stood... Last time I stood in a place like this, everything changed. Fuck, the time before that when I stood in that place everything changed. And it always changed for the worst. At least for me."

Ignis turned around to look up at the Citadel. It was decorated for Candlenights, strings of lights hung the eaves, candles alight in the windows. It embodied the spirit of the holiday, the strength of people to survive through the darkness, to find light where there is none, to hold onto hope that things will get better. It was a holiday that Ignis had a difficult time believing in until this year, until he met Noctis. "Maybe it'll be good this time. That's the meaning of Candlenights."

Ignis watched Noctis continue to hesitate, and he moved to manipulate him. He pushed his back straight, squared his shoulders and tucked a hand beneath his chin to raise his head. He leaned in close, and whispered against his ear. "Walk tall."

"...What?"

"Walk tall, Noctis."

A long moment passed and then Noctis moved, long, deliberate strides towards the Citadel. Ignis hung back, watched him. He watched him begin to ascend the stairs, and he was struck with this sudden thought that he's seen this before, that no one has suited the Citadel as much as Noctis. He felt a stab of pain between his eyes.

The visions happened then, a sudden flash of images that should have knocked Ignis to his knees. 

Noctis descending the stairs away from his father. Noctis in the backseat of the Regalia. Noctis seeing the destruction of Insomnia. Noctis in Lestallum. Noctis meeting the Archean, The Fulgurian. The battle in Altissia against the Hydrean. Ignis putting on the ring to protect him, the fires of the ancestors destroying his body, taking his vision. Noctis sacrificing himself, saying goodbye to his friends at steps of the Citadel.

Memories of Noctis as a child, of taking of him, of raising. Noctis fighting with him, running away from home. Comforting Noctis when he's had his nightmares. Holding him in his sleep. Noctis saying that he loved him. Noctis pouring his heart out to him and having to reject him and his own feelings because Noctis was engaged, promised to wed the Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae....

"Noctis..."

Ignis lunged forward, arms out stretched. 

"Noctis."

Ignis stumbled on the steps.

"Noctis!"

Ignis threw himself around him. 

"Noct...."

"Ignis?"

Ignis gasped and buried his face in Noctis's hair. All at once it was like the gaping hole in his heart had filled, everything that had been missing, everything that he had been missing right here in his arms. He was crying, repeating the name like a prayer. "Noct... Noct..."

"Ig--Iggy?"

"Oh gods, Noct. I forgot you. I forgot everything about you. I can't-- I don't-- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't believe it..." Ignis was rambling, he didn't know how to put this sudden rush of memories and emotions into words. "Gods... You're alive. You're alive."

"Y-you remember me?"

"Of course I do. I-- I remember everything about you... I'm so sorry I couldn't return your feelings. I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you that I love you..."

Noctis's hands had come to cover his own. Ignis could feel him trembling. "What do you think you just did, stupid?" Despite the joke, his voice was quavering.

"Wh-what?"

"You just said you love me. You let it slip and you didn't even notice." Noctis something that should have sounded like a laugh, but it mostly just sounded relieved and happy and near tears all at once.

Ignis as startled into his own laugh, turning his head to rest his cheek in Noctis's hair. "I did, didn't I? Gods... I love you. I've always loved you."

Noctis turned around in his arms, and leaned up for a kiss, long and lingering right there on the steps on the Citadel in a way either of them could have only ever dreamed of in the past. Ignis held him close, clinging to him because he missed him, because he remembered him, because he could finally accept those feelings and reciprocate them in return.

Their lips parted slowly, and Ignis could see two figures at the top of the stairs and he sucked in a gasp. "Gods. Gladio and Prompto. They don't remember you either, no one does. You're our king. You're--"

Noctis pressed a finger to Ignis's lips. "One thing at a time, Specs. We'll worry about them remembering me later, but for now maybe you can tell them you love me?" He had a wistful, hopeful smile on his lips.

Ignis eyes widened. "They saw me kissing you!"

Noctis wound his arms around Ignis's neck and leaned in close, lips so close Ignis could feel the warmth of his breath against his skin. "Yeah, I guess they did, and they're going to have to see it again."


End file.
